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#i know for sure i wouldn't be left wanting. but they're just too far away
orcgirlcock · 1 year
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I've been there re: A lack of intimacy/experiences. I know it feels awful but you can't think of it as a problem that you are the source of. You gotta believe in yourself, even when believing in yourself feels stupid. You have to because it's the only thing that works. Things will change; and you'll make them change if they don't.
And I'm not just saying that because you're cute.
it doesn't just feel stupid, it feels wrong sometimes. ever since i started to want romance and intimacy, i've been met with nothing but misses. people telling me they had feelings after i moved away never to see them again. falling in love with my best friends, only to have them tell me that despite them feeling the same, we can't be together. over and over. finally actually having a girlfriend, working up the courage to finally give her a kiss for the first time, only to walk in on her and some guy from another class kissing. it doesn't matter how hard i try, no matter how much i believe, i can't seem to get it right. i haven't found anyone irl that wants me enough to do anything about their feelings, and i'm so tired from searching so hard
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m0ther-of-p3arl · 2 months
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at this point i will fully just be blocking anyone who says they're voting third party idk how to get it into your brains that by voting third party YOU ARE VOTING FOR DONALD TRUMP. if he wins, you're not getting another chance to vote, you're not getting another election, because he WILL become the dictator. he has smart people behind him, horrible people, but people who know what they're doing and know how to manipulate laws and twist them in ways where trump can do whatever he wants.
if you are voting third party, you are taking away our one chance at winning this thing.
kamala harris is a good candidate. she is the most pro-palestinian candidate we are EVER going to get who actually has a shot at winning this thing. she's a black and south-asian woman who understand the struggles that minorities face and does her best to fix them. she is smart, she is pro-abortion, she is literally the most liberal candidate we will EVER HAVE who has a remote chance at winning. she has a positive stance on lgbtq+ rights and worked to make sure the gay and trans panic defense was removed. she protected children and women and people of all kinds who were sexually assaulted. she made it so that children who were SEX TRAFFICKED wouldn't be prosecuted for BEING TRAFFICKED.
she is a good candidate. hell, she's a GREAT candidate. she's leagues better than biden, at this point i honestly don't know what you all are hoping for. we are never going to get the hyper-liberal, massively far left candidate some of you seem to be hoping for. that's just not a possibility: this is politics. you can't appeal to that tiny corner of the population and still hope to win. i wish you could, but that's just now how it works at this moment in time. kamala harris might be the best presidential candidate in the history of the united states.
and even if she wasn't: have you forgotten what 2016-2020 was like?! have you forgotten who we're fighting against?! because donald trump is a nightmare scenario. he is literally the opposite of everything that liberals and far-left people like myself stand for. when bush was running against al gore, the only reason that there was even a supreme court case that appointed bush was because too many people voted third party. you can't do that shit. i wish you could, i wish we had more options, but we just fucking don't.
so, yeah: come november, go out and vote, and when you do, vote for kamala harris. vote for her so we don't lose everything that we as liberals are fighting for, vote for her for those of us who are too young, vote for her for the best-case scenario that the palestinian people will ever have in this current political climate.
please. please, please vote harris. it's the only option atp.
(i will not be doing discourse in the replies or reblogs. don't even try it.)
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luveline · 9 months
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that spencer x bombshell one you just posted has me giggling and kicking my feet I think I’m in love with YOU 🫵
Now I’m thinking of spencer x bombshell where the team starts to not view reid as unwillingly tortured by her flirting. Like maybe Morgan makes a comment to reid about something he does and is like “don’t torture the poor girl” and he’s like oh shit I’M the one torturing too now?
im in love with YOU !! for you, ty for requesting ♡ fem
“Difficult,” you say, resting your head on the table. 
“I know.” Spencer wiggles his pen back and forth between two fingers, thinking hard. This case is proving to be indecipherable. None of the details want to add up, and no clear profile geographical or otherwise appears. 
“Useless.” 
“Who, me or you?” 
“Us.” You sigh morosely. “Mostly me.” 
You're not being serious. Spencer huffs a soft laugh and continues to turn the details over in his head. You open your notebook and scratch down a couple of sentences with a pen, a visual thinker. Your mind map turns to a second iteration and then a third. You can't connect the dots because they're too far apart from each other; Spencer can't do it either. Not alone. 
He scoots his chair as close to yours as possible, your knees touching, his elbow in your side. “Can I look?” he asks. 
“Of course you can. Sorry about my handwriting.” 
He shakes his head. Your handwriting is perhaps the only thing about you he wouldn't say was one hundred percent perfect. You can't control it like other things. It is perfect, in a way, because it's yours, but you've been writing quickly and he struggles to make out the occasional letter. 
He leans in toward the page. “What's this word?” he asks. 
You lean in to see it. “Coruscated.” 
“The swimming pool?” he asks, lifting his face to yours. You're closer now, and beautiful like this. He can see the powder under your eyes, the lines in your irises, the slight fading of your lipstick at the corners of your mouth. There's an eyelash on your cheek. He lifts a hand to wipe it away. “What's so important about that?” 
“It reminded me of something…” You pause as he touches your face. “Something…” Your voice lilts up in question, half-shudder. 
“Eyelash,” he explains, blowing it off of his finger. 
“Right,” you say, eyes oddly wide and soft at once, your eyebrows lifted at the starts. 
“You okay?” 
“Is she okay? Reid, you're torturing the poor girl. Give her some air,” Morgan says with a chuckle. 
Spencer leans backwards in surprise, no idea what Morgan could possibly mean. Your eyes relax as you regain some personal space, your hands coming together loosely in your lap. You laugh weakly. 
Spencer looks you up and down. He's torturing you? That doesn't make sense. For as long as you've known one another, the team has joked that your flirty ways and feminine wiles are too much for Spencer to handle. You once gave him an apology he didn't want, worried you actually were hurting him by being your playful self, and he'd set that straight immediately. You don't torture him. It's a lot of feelings to be doted on so much by you, and painful isn't one of them. Overwhelming, sometimes, and exciting, sure. 
He never realised he had the power to overwhelm you. Not until that moment. You offer a funny smile far from your usual smirk and try to steamroll Morgan's claim. “Guess I should've made a wish.” 
“What would you wish for?” Spencer asks quietly. 
You still. Morgan shakes his head in disapproval, but he laughs again and stands up. “I think they'd call that a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart,” he says to you. 
You meet Spencer's eye. “I think they would,” you say bashfully. 
For three blissful seconds, Spencer enjoys the reality of having made you flustered. You, gorgeous, confident you, left flushed and a little daunted by his casual actions and simple (maybe slightly flirtatious) questioning. But then he remembers how much he likes you and pushes it away. 
“Sorry,” he says, plastering a smile over uncertain lips, “I didn't mean to do that.” 
“No, it's okay.” 
He turns to your notes, but gives you a look from the side. “I hope you wished for someone to solve the case. We're never getting anywhere like this.” 
“Are you saying you can't?” You rest your chin in your hand. “And here I thought you were more than a pretty face.” 
You have a quick recovery rate, evidently. 
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Always room for seconds (dp x dc)
"There they go again," says Aunt Alicia as she looks at the hazmat-clad backs of her sister and her husband jumping into their mish-mash-of-a-van. "And on Thanksgiving too," she finishes to herself as she turns toward her niece and nephew. Neither of them look surprised, though Jazz is clearly more affected if the tick in her jaw is any indication.
"They promised," she practically spits but Danny just sighs and puts a hand on her shoulder. It seems to draw the fight out of Jazz a bit and she sags onto herself.
Alicia loves her sister but she can be so irresponsible sometimes.
"Come on kids, let's go back inside. It's about time to put the turk-" she stops short, then groans. Maddie had insisted on bringing the turkey on account of not wanting Alicia to go to all the trouble, and Alicia had agreed on the condition that her sister wouldn't try to make it. "...And the turkey is still in the van isn't it?"
Danny makes a face. "It's probably for the best. I'm pretty sure I saw it move on the way here."
Alicia doesn't let her head fall into her hands, but only just. Instead, she takes a deep breath to calm herself down to rally her thoughts. "Alright. It'll be too late by the time we drive to town and buy a new raw one, so we can just get some already made from the store. That good for you guys?"
Jazz and Danny make sounds of assent before all three of them pile up in the car. Town isn't too far away, and the trip is mostly silent. Alicia is hesitating over what to say to cheer up her niece and nephew. In the end, they pull up to the grocery store before she manages to come up with anything.
"Dad was also supposed to bring desert," Jazz mentions as she grabs a caddie and wheels it back to them.
"I made apple pie just in case," Alicia answers. Despite her dislike for him, she can admit that Jack Fenton is a generous man. However, as she has learned over the years, that generosity doesn't extend to fudge. Which is why she's got her famous apple pie ready to pop into the oven.
Danny nods relieved, as he files in behind his sister. The three of them are rolling past the frozen section when a familiar voice cuts through the store music.
"Alicia?"
At that, Alicia looks up to see the face of one and only Martha Kent. Her lips stretch into a smile unconsciously at the sight.
"Martha, hi," she answers as the other woman starts walking closer. "How are you?"
"I'm good," the other woman says as she stops in front of them. "Just doing some last-minute shopping." Then Martha looks to Danny and Jazz and gives them a smile. "And who might these two be?"
"This is Jazz and Danny," Alicia introduces them, "my niece and nephew. They're spending Thanksgiving up at the cabin with me."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" Martha says sincerely. "You left your sister and her husband in charge of the turkey, then?" She winks.
Alicia winces. "Ah, not exactly."
"They had a work emergency," Jazz says, unhappy.
Martha lets out a sympathetic oh.
"That's why we're here," Alicia explains. "They left with the turkey without realizing, so we'll have to settle for store-bought this year."
Martha makes a noise of sympathy before her face shifts into something more pensive. "You know," she starts. "I've got a big turkey at home and there's only going to be my son and me to eat it. If you guys would like, we'd love to have you over to help us with it."
"Oh we couldn't possibly-" Alicia starts to protest but Martha takes a step forward and takes her hands.
"You'd be doing us a favour," Martha says, her hands still into Alicia's as she looks up earnestly at the redhead. And damn it all because Alicia can feel a blush spreading on her cheeks at that.
"Alright," Alicia says, too flustered to argue.
Martha squeezes her hands once before letting go and Alicia can't help but miss the warmth of them. "Then it's settled."
"Alright," repeats Alicia. "We'll have to swing back home, though. I made pie."
"That's wonderful!" Martha's smile is radiant and it makes something in Alicia's chest warm.
She disguises it with a cough before speaking up. "Is six thirty too early for you?"
"It's perfect. We'll be waiting for you then," Martha says. "And for your sister and her husband too, if they manage to tear themselves away from work."
"That's not likely," mumbles Danny under his breath. Uncharacteristically, Jazz doesn't say anything about her brother's manners, only putting her own hand on his shoulder. Martha catches Alicia's eye and they exchange a look.
"Well, we'll be glad to have you three, anywho," Martha states firmly which gets her a hesitant smile from Jazz.
Alicia clears her throat. "We'd better get going if we want to be ready in time."
"Oh yes," Martha agrees. "I have to make sure the turkey's not burning." Then she winks, and for some reason, Alicia can feel that pesky blush coming back. It's made worse by the shrewd look Jazz gives her.
"See you soon!" says Martha as she leaves.
"Bye," Alicia answers back a little weakly. Then she looks down to the ground and sighs. When she straightens her head, she's immediately on guard as she catches her niece's smug look.
"What?" Alicia asks warily.
"Is Martha single?" Jazz asks, with a butter-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth face.
"Yeah," the older redhead answers slowly. "Why?"
"Just wanted to know," Jazz says innocently. And even Danny is looking at his sister suspiciously now. "since you've got a crush on her and all."
"I do no-I don't know what you're talking about!" Alicia protests though she feels her cheeks warming for the third time today.
And now Danny is starting to smirk too as he exchanges a look with his sister. "Oh," he starts as he looks towards Martha's disappearing figure. "This is going to be fun."
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mrpenguinpants · 2 years
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Please go out with me for tax benefits!
— When you randomly pointed to a handsome man and declared him to be your boyfriend, you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just wanted a couples discount!
— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha
-> Part 2: Overdue Bills [Masterlist]
This was originally written for my upcoming "Help me break my engagement by marrying me instead." fic but I got carried away and it became too plot-heavy. So I made a new one. Most of these have nothing to do with money, I just thought the title was funny.
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Alhaitham
You blame Kaveh for this. This is entirely his fault and you will not be convinced otherwise. If he hadn't opened his big mouth to Alhaitham about the fact you've been spouting that he was your boyfriend, then you wouldn't be in this mess. It wasn't even that serious, it's not like you were actually emotionally invested with the man and this was all a delusional dream. You barely knew the guy aside from the multiple rumors about him in the first place. You just needed to access some limited-edition books for your thesis and his name happened to be the easiest way to get ahold of them. Sure, you may be lying to authority for the better half of a year about your relationship with the scribe, but it's not your fault they didn't ask questions. If you happened to threaten to tell your very scary and very influential "boyfriend" about this "mistreatment", that's just a byproduct if anything. But now you have a very irritated silver-haired man crowding into your personal space asking why the hell you're announcing to the world that you're both in a relationship. It's creepy. He called you creepy. Is this where you roll over and die in shame?
You swear you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just happened to spot him in the background while the librarian was giving you a hard time and your dumb brain-to-mouth filter was taking a break that day. So you just blurted that you were Alhaitham's partner and that he would be very upset to hear that you were being treated this way. It's not completely far-fetched, Alhaitham seems like a very, very, private person and on the off chance you were telling the truth? Well, the poor librarian didn't want to lose her job. Besides, it's not like you were planning on doing anything illegal and you don't think you're the absolute worst person to be fake-dating.
By some stroke of luck, or maybe he felt too much pity for you, Alhaitham decides to cut you a deal rather than get you kicked out of the Akademiya. He gets multiple love letters, confessions, and heart-eyed individuals trailing after him all the time. Frankly, he's getting tired of it and since you've already taken the liberty, he won't say anything if you don't say anything. Though he makes it clear that if you ever do anything embarrassing, you're taking the fall and he's going to pretend he doesn't know you. A bit harsh but that's only a safety net. Plus it's not like you actually want to date him so he wouldn't have any commitments. The added bonus is that since he's well-known for having a...rough personality, you don't need to act affectionately with the man or go the extra mile. As long as you have each other's backing, you'll get to check out any textbook you want for free and he gets to be left alone. So for both your benefits, to the rest of the Akademiya you and him are a couple.
You should have known this deal was way too good to be true. As soon as people hear that Alhaitham acknowledges that you're his partner, they're on you like rabid fungi. In comparison to the scribe, you're far easier to prod and poke for any gossip and your quiet day-to-day life is suddenly thrown into the wind. Multiple people a day come to bother you about what it's like to date the moody man. It gets to a point where you have to actually dress incognito just to go and get some coffee. Seriously, didn't people have deadlines and exams to prepare for then to hound you down to talk about your fake love life? Alhaitham is no help either, only shrugging off your complaints and telling you that this is what you agreed to.
He's a horrible partner, fake or not. This isn't your storybook romance where he suddenly falls in love with you, he straight up ignores you sometimes! If anything, this entire situation has stopped you from feeling intimidated by him. Before you wouldn't dare approach him, his appearance and body were enough for you to shy away. You're impulsive, not blind. Alhaitham is drop-dead gorgeous but now that you've reached such an absurd situation it stops intimidating you. You begin to regularly pester the man because you know that even though you're both not actually dating, it would look really bad if he shunned you constantly.
He actually doesn't mind you. Unlike Kaveh or anyone else who interacts with him, you know how to be quiet and independent. Most of the time you both sit in silence, the only noise between the two of you being the flipping of pages and the scratching of ink against paper. If you ever do speak, it's always with a purpose. It's just a bonus that while everyone stares at your table, no one ever approaches. If they need to speak with him, they see your body right next to him and they decide to come back at a later time when he's alone.
Over time, he finds himself seeking you out instead of the other way around. He's come to find your presence comforting and it's the only time when he can actually sit down and read. Being an observant person, he starts to notice your little habits. For one, touch seems to be how you interact with others. You always bump elbows whenever you greet him, pinching his half coat whenever you want to drag him to see whatever captured your attention, and nudging his arm with your hand whenever you need him to bend down so you can whisper something into his ear. He's honestly surprised and concerned that he doesn't push you away with your skinship. If it were anyone else, he would have sent them a sharp glare and pushed him off but he doesn't for you.
All things must come to an end eventually and you've finally finished writing the last sentences for your thesis. Your pat on the back is the firm shut of a book as a deep sigh escapes your lips. Tired but relieved. The goodbye is uneventful, you simply tell him that you don't need him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he's free to live out the single life. He just nods and with that, you're gone.
No one says anything when they notice that Alhaithem sits at a table alone for the nth time that week. There are a few whispers back and forth about how you either got fed up with this attitude or he realized that he was way out of your league. Either way, everyone assumes you and Alhaithem are no longer together and his routine before you arrived settles back in. Yet, he feels off. He refuses to call it longing, you both were hardly affectionate in the first place, but he feels a bit lonely without your presence beside him. it's been plaguing his mind ever since you packed your things and left. He's hardly been able to concentrate on his book, rereading the same sentence for the fourth time before snapping it shut. Letting out a deep sigh, he runs a hand through his hair before setting it against his closed eyes. What's gotten into him?
"Is this seat taken?"
His eyes shoot open, turning around to see you with an armful of books looking expectantly at him. You look nervous and he can't lie to himself that he doesn't find that just the slightest bit endearing. He can tell that you're struggling to carry all of them from the slight shake in your hands.
"I thought our deal was over?" he says this but he gets up anyways to take the books out of your hands and places them on the table. You just roll your eyes at him because of course that's what he would say first and push forward. You're probably the only one who would act so brazenly in front of him besides Kaveh but he doesn't find it irritating when you do it.
"What? So I need to be in a relationship with you just to sit at a table? I know your ego is big but not thattt big," you stretch your words as you settle comfortably into your seat.
He wonders when he started thinking of that specific chair as yours.
"No. I suppose not," he says with an exasperated smile as he sits back down. You beam back at him as you shuffle your chair closer to him as you open your textbook, your fingertips gave that familiar tug for him to lean in closer.
"Good, because I need some help with this section. I have no idea what the hell "bloom" is."
Ayato
Although Valentine's day was mostly celebrated in Mondstadt and Sumeru, Inazuma still liked to dabble in the festivities during the day of love. Various couples' discounts on tricolored Dango or limited edition books from the Yae Publishing House. There was one popular series in particular that was having a huge discount to celebrate the holiday and even though you weren't in the market for a partner, you weren't going to pass up on such a steal. Only for your excitement to fall flat when the lady informed you that the discount was for couples only.
You can't believe this. You just stood in line for hours only for them to tell you this now? What kind of shady place was this? Of course, they didn't advertise the specifics of this sale, they knew this book was popular. People waiting in line wouldn't just walk away once they found out and they would end up paying full price! Well, two can play this game. You randomly gesture off to the side, saying that your boyfriend was just standing off to the side because he wanted to grab some refreshments. You aren't really looking where you're pointing, too busy digging through your pouch and counting your coins of mora before a sharp gasp stops you. The lady quickly bows and beams at you with a mega-watt customer service smile. She hands the book to you free of charge while profusely thanking you for your patronage. You look off to the side but you don't see anyone, but you weren't going to say no, so you shrug and take it. A free book is a free book.
To be fair, you were making it really easy for the Archons to mess with you. You hear whispers around you that you can't make out, anytime you glance at passing people, they quickly bow and shuffle along. You have a horrible sinking feeling forming in the pit of your stomach and you quickly rush home so you can avoid whatever the hell you just caused. Unfortunately, word travels fast in Inazuma, and every shop you pass by you're being confronted left and right with sales pitches and gifts of appreciation for your partner's hard work. All of which you decline, half of it because you're not actually in a relationship and the other half because you have no interest in their gifts. But you've already dug yourself this far in your grave so you just give a hasty no thank you as you try and dodge everyone who looks at you with that glimmer in their eyes. Who did you point at to receive this much praise?
Ayato is greatly confused when people approach him to congratulate him on his engagement. He wasn't planning on getting married any time soon, his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner taking up most of this time. Did the elders set someone up for him without informing him first? He's curious about who his mystery person is but everyone he asks doesn't seem to know where they went. Apparently, his fiancee is shy but humble, declining gifts from various shopkeepers no matter how expensive they are.
That's until one of the children points in your direction and his eyes slide over to you who looks just as confused as him. He's never seen you in his life and you don't look like anyone from a significant clan. He gets clued in that you boldly announced your relationship with him when you were checking out a specific book meant for couples only. Ah, he's starting to understand now. He offers a piece of candy for the helpful information as he makes his way over to you. His mysterious fiancee.
As soon as the man in front of you says Lord Kamisato's name, the uneasy weight in your stomach drops. You quickly spin on your heel to see the pale blue hair and amused light purple eyes. Oh. Oh, Archon's above, please, out of everyone you could have pointed to, please don't make it be the Yashiro Commissioner. You're about to burn this book into ashes and do a ceremony to banish whatever youkai were stored within the pages if you manage to make it out of this alive.
If Ayato was upset about this situation he's found himself in, it would be immediately wiped away because you look like you're about to collapse. He's trying his best to not laugh at your torment right in front of you, but the mix of emotions that's so openly displayed on your face is making it hard. It's obvious that you didn't mean for this to happen, you've just tripped and fallen into a web of misunderstandings. Too entangled to explain yourself without making a fool out of yourself.
If looks could kill, this storekeeper would be dead on the floor twice over. This man calls out to the Yashiro Commissioner, and just to add salt to the wound, proudly congratulates him on his engagement with you. You said nothing about an engagement, you're far too young to be thinking about that thank you very much. But Ayato just nods along with that ever-pleasant smile without bothering to correct the situation. You're not sure if you should be thankful or not. He might be planning your murder in his mind so you stay silent as well.
When Ayato's gaze shifts to you, you do what any creature does when they're in danger and there's nowhere to run. You hide. You automatically raise your book to cover your face so you don't need to look at the source of your embarrassment. Although it does nothing to hide just how red your face is, you don't see him and that's good enough for you. But this also means you don't see the questioning glance the storekeeper shoots Ayato about your behavior, to which Ayato gives a pleasant smile and waves a hand to dismiss the situation.
"Please excuse my fiancee, we didn't mean to announce our engagement so early," Ayato muses, and the storekeeper nods in understanding while you bring your book down low enough to peer over the edges of the pages. Is...is he covering for you? He looks down expectantly at you but when you don't move, he awkwardly coughs into his fist and tilts his head toward the shopkeeper.
"A-Ah yes, that's right! It was a slip of the tongue and I hadn't realized I said it out loud. Please excuse my behavior," you bow and you can hear Ayato turning his head to snort into his hand. This is awful. You think you would prefer if he just outted you so you didn't need to show the world how awful your acting skills are. This is why you read plays, not star in them. But the shopkeeper nods in understanding, apologizing for saying your engagement so loud for others to hear before you're leaving with Ayato's arm wrapped around your waist.
"I'm deeply sorry. There was a discount for couples only and I just pointed in a random direction and it just happened to land on you. I swear I didn't mean to start any of this," you quickly rush out as you bow before Ayato as soon as you're out of sight from the public eye. He still has that annoying look in his eyes but you're completely at his mercy right now. The smug bastard definitely knows that.
"It's no trouble at all. I found the situation quite entertaining," he chuckles before looking you up and down. Okay...a tiny bit weird but you suppose your actions are worse. There's a long silence between the two of you as if he's pondering something and you've had enough of today's events.
"Um...well if that's everything I'll be getting out of your hair. Please enjoy the rest of your day Lord Kamisato," you mumble as you turn to leave but his hand hooks onto the back of your kimono and drags you right back.
"Ah, ah. It would make a bad impression if my fiancee suddenly left me on Valentine's Day. Oh and please, call me Ayato," he smiles that same polite smile but his eyes tell a different story entirely. His smile even widens at how hard you're biting your lip as you match his with a strained one. For Archon's sake, you just wanted to buy a book, how did you get into this mess?!
Kazuha
As soon as Inazuma's borders reopened, you were jumping on the fastest ship back to Liyue. You even got extra lucky that your good friend Beidou happened to be on the pier and offered you a well-deserved ride back to your home free of charge. You've been so homesick but unable to leave due to the regulation the Electro Archon placed, so to say that you were excited to finally go back was an understatement. Although the Crux Fleet was mainly an armed carrier delivering goods between places separated by sea, it did occasionally transport passengers if they paid enough. It only made sense that others would be like you and wish to return home as soon as possible. It's too bad that one of them happened to take one look at you and decide that you were born to be his.
It's an incredibly awkward affair. This wealthy businessman doesn't appear to mean any harm but he's incredibly dense with no sense of social awareness. Although you've politely declined his advances, he doesn't seem to stop. Even when Beidou herself threatens to throw the man overboard, he just keeps his distance and makes heart eyes at you. Unfortunately for you, Beidou can't actually throw him into the cruel watery depths no matter how much you plead with her. The man seems to be an important figure from Snezhnaya so she can't exactly treat him badly. Thus you spend most of your time ducking away and running away from your creepy admirer.
You're usually not so bold but the mix of overwhelming homesickness and just wanting to get this journey over and done with, all of it compels you to act rashly. If your new admirer can't take a simple no then you'll find a different way and show him you're off limits. You've seen the man who sits on the crow's nest, you believe Beidou said his name was Kazuha, whose been a part of her crew for a while now. You've only made passing small talk with each other and he seems like a nice person, at least you hope so. Because as soon as his feet touch the ship's deck, you're throwing yourself at him. You have to give him credit, he has lightning-fast reflexes and is a lot stronger than his demeanor expresses since he manages to catch you and stop you both from sprawling across the floor.
You make a show of throwing your arms around him and whining about how he doesn't spend enough time with poor dear you. You can tell he's infinitely confused so you lean in and whisper into his ear about your creepy stalker who can't take a no. Your eyes desperately plead with him to play along with you, just until the ship reaches Liyue Harbour. It only takes Kazuha to look over your shoulder and lock gazes with said "stalker" before he's turning to you with the most tender smile on his lips and a soft apology for being neglectful. A promise to spend more quality time to make up for his behavior. You swear that should have been an omen because you feel your heart stop for a second right then and there.
It's not completely out there. As the lookout, he would have to stay up in the crow's nest most of the day, and given how soft spoken Kazuha normally is, he doesn't look like the confrontational type. But he does make good on his fake promise and you find yourself spending most of your time in the crow's nest with Kazuha rather than ducking into the shadows of the lower deck. Kazuha is a relaxing presence and you can understand why he stays up here rather than with the rest of the crew. The gentle sea breeze brushes through your hair and it's so peaceful all the way up in the sky. You're almost jealous that he has an anemo vision because you think you'd love to stay in the winds forever.
He's also a gentleman through and through. You're not entirely sure if he's just pretending alongside you or if that's just how he normally acts. You think both options are equally plausible and endearing. At some point, you forget that you're supposed to be doing this for show to keep a creepy man away from you and you genuinely start to seek him out. It's during one night when you watch Kazuha whistle a tune through a leaf that you realize just how deep you're in. Now your position is reversed and you start to feel like the creepy heart-eyed stalker. It's something that you must absolutely not let happen, not on your watch.
Your sudden distance from Kazuha leaves him a bit hurt. He knows that this originally started as an act but he felt that you and him were getting close to each other without any ulterior motives. That all your talks of your dreams and aspiration were real and meaningful. But now that you've suddenly pulled back, he question's if everything was made up in his head. It's not like you owe him anything, he decided to help you out from of his own volition. Beidou can only look at this scene painfully at her two idiotic friends pushing themselves away from each other because they can't sit down and talk it out.
She drags the two of you into a private room, her only warning to fix your emotional angst or she really will throw you both overboard. You both know she's entirely serious so you both obediently nod as she slams the door closed.
Beidou leans against the wooden crates with her head propped up with her arm. She should probably stop watching, she's being far too nosy with her friend's love life, but what kind of friend would she be if she wasn't? She hopes you both managed to talk it out and realize that you're both crushing hard on each other. She had been far too busy with Liyue fastly approaching to check in on your progress but from the looks of things, she thinks everything went well. With the red cheeks and your fingertips linked together, it's so cute that she wants to gag on her wine. Don't get her wrong, she's happy for you and Kazuha, but any more of this puppy love is going to send her into an early grave.
"You're not going to stay in Liyue?" she overhears you say. Huh? She honestly thought that Kazuha might pitch a tent and finally settle down with you but the small shake of his head and your fallen expression says otherwise. Damn, talk about a heartbreaker. But he gives you a soft expression, something really vulnerable, and his hand comes up to caress your cheek- and that's her cue to turn away. That's something that even she knows she shouldn't be watching. She instead takes another swig of her cup.
"Captain."
She looks up to see Kazuha standing beside her, the air of nature and sea breeze clinging to him wherever he goes. She politely doesn't bring up the charm clutched tightly in his hands.
"You sure about this kid?" Beidou asks, her eyes still trained on her empty cup of booze. She doesn't need to look to know that he's watching your back disappear into the crowd longingly.
"If I try to force something I know I'm not ready to finish, it would only lead to disaster. Right now isn't the right time. But I'm sure in the future, our paths will cross again," Kazuha nods to himself solemnly. This time Beidou does look at him before she shows a fond smile herself before she brings her arm back and slaps it against Kazuha's back. It's loud and hard enough to jolt him out of his temporary sadness.
"If you ever need a ride back to Liyue, just let me know. We'll get you there in no time lover boy," Beidou grins cheekily as Kazuha flushes a bright red. How cute, he can't even be honest with himself huh?
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steddiealltheway · 11 months
Text
(happy happy happy happy happy birth-dae to @strawberryspence ilysm my Wendy’s frosty and chicken tenders friend. I hope you enjoy 💛🍓)
Steve was having one of those days. Then again, he seemed to have a lot of those after two run-ins with an evil alternate dimension combined with the aftermath of his "bullshit" relationship with Nancy. Luckily his parents weren't home to add to the general mood of things, but that just left him with a too big, empty house.
As soon as he got inside, he turned around and went back to his car. He knew where to go.
The drive was on the longer side, but Steve didn't mind. He felt like he could finally breathe when he saw the Leaving Hawkins sign. A few miles later, he pulled into one of the spaces beside a small diner.
He walked in and waved to Linda who smiled sweetly at him. He remembered a few years ago when he had first met her after taking his dad's keys and driving far away from his parents. Linda had given him a free meal and lingered around, letting him rant and not judging him for the things he said about his asshole parents and friends. She had simply listened and told him that he reminded her of her son when he was younger.
When Steve eventually left, Linda had told him that he could stop by anytime, and she would likely be there. She also hinted that maybe he should take a bus next time because he looked a little too young to drive. Steve had blushed and ducked his head at the comment, but Linda had just laughed and told him things would get better.
And it seemed like every time Steve came back, things would eventually get better.
But he can't help but feel a little jilted when he notices that his corner booth which is always available is suddenly not. He can't see whoever is sitting there as they face away from the door. Their shoulder-length curly hair sticks out to him, but he wonders if that has to do with Nancy.
He knows he should just find another booth or table or even sit at the bar, but Steve can't help but wonder who is sitting at his table. So, he approaches them slowly, noticing how they're bent over some book or something scribbling away only with a pink-tinted milkshake on the table.
He clears his throat when he gets closer, and the person looks up with big, brown eyes curious at first before becoming closed off.
"Munson," Steve says, not sure what emotion he's feeling because he was the last person he imagined to be here.
"Harrington," Eddie replies, sounding a bit irritated.
Steve frowns. "Why are you sitting at my table?"
Eddie looks around before saying, "Funny, I didn't see a sign."
"You know what I mean."
Eddie closes the notebook in front of him before he leans back and crosses his arms. "Do I?"
Steve runs a hand through his hair and rests his hands on his hips. "I sit here every time I come here."
The corner of Eddie's mouth quirks up into a small smirk. "Thanks for explaining, but I'm not moving for you, Your Highness." He tilts his head down in a mock bow that irks Steve.
"Thankfully, you’re not sitting in my side of the booth," Steve says as he slides into the bench on the opposite side of Eddie.
Eddie looks at him blankly for a few seconds and takes a sip of his milkshake. He swallows and says, "Just don't dump this on me, okay?"
"Why would I do that?"
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Why would King Steve humiliate The Freak? What a great question."
Steve frowns. "I haven't done anything to you before."
"And nothing is stopping you now."
Steve snorts. "It sounds like you almost want me to. Which I won't by the way. If that was seriously something you were worried about."
Eddie narrows his eyes at him as if expecting something as he clutches his notebook a little tighter.
Steve gestures toward it. "What that?"
Eddie frowns and looks down at the book. "You wouldn't care."
"Try me."
Once again, Eddie stares at him. This time Linda interrupts as she slides a burger with fries in front of Steve. "Everything okay here?"
Eddie and Steve both nod, but Linda raises her eyebrows at Steve as if saying behave.
Steve takes the message and kindly pushes the plate a little toward Eddie saying, "You can take a fry if you want."
Eddie stares at the plate and considers it.
"I promise in the time Linda brought it to me and I pushed it to you, I didn't poison it." Eddie still doesn't take a fry, so Steve reaches over, grabs one, and takes a bite. "See?"
Eddie looks at him and says, "Can never be too sure." But he takes a fry and dips it in his milkshake before taking a bite.
Steve's eyebrows furrow.
Eddie does the same thing with the other half of his fry and asks, "What?"
Steve grabs another fry. "What flavor milkshake is that?"
"Strawberry."
Steve frowns again as Eddie sighs. "I get a fry in a vanilla milkshake maybe, but strawberry?"
"Don't knock it before you try it," Eddie says pushing the glass toward him.
Steve stares at it tentatively.
"Unless you're afraid of double dipping after a freak."
With that comment, Steve looks Eddie in the eye, dips a fry into the shake, and bites into it. And it's not... unpleasant. He even takes the other half and tries more. "It's not bad. But I'm still confused about the choice of a strawberry milkshake."
It seems to be the wrong thing to say as Eddie retreats back into his shell a bit.
"I'm just more of a vanilla or chocolate guy," Steve tries to clear the air.
Eddie glances up and shrugs. "I used to get one here with my mom."
"Not anymore?" Steve can't help but ask.
"Considering that she's six feet under, no"
Steve's heart jumps at the response. He doesn't really know what to do other than reach over and rest a hand over where Eddie's rests. "I'm sorry."
Eddie glances down at their hands and shrugs. "Happened a long time ago. There's no need for all that."
Steve squeezes his hand one more time before pulling back. "Still sucks," he comments before biting into his burger.
"It is what it is." Eddie looks away and shakes his head before stating, "So, you've obviously been here often. When did that start?"
Steve finishes his bite and shrugs. "A few years ago. I tried to run - or rather drive - away from home. But I ended up here. I've been back whenever I need a break and to know that things will get better."
"How are things looking right now?"
"Better," Steve says with a small smile. He pushes his plate toward Eddie again. He takes the hint and grabs another fry.
"You know, chicken tenders taste pretty good with the milkshake too."
Steve laughs. "I'll have to take your word for it."
Eddie smiles, revealing his dimples, and Steve can't drag his eyes away.
Steve finishes his burger as Eddie makes a dent in his fries - not that he minds. The silence between them is nice, comfortable even. Steve's not sure the last time he's had a moment like this with someone.
Eddie glances up at him and hesitantly asks, "Did you really want to know what the notebook's for?"
Steve nods and leans across the table to get a better look as Eddie opens it up, explaining his D&D plans and showing off his drawings. As he flips the page and reveals a drawing of the Demogorgan, Steve slips out of the booth and sits next to Eddie, getting a closer look. "That's not what I expected it to look like."
Eddie looks at him. "You know what the Demogorgan is?"
"I kind of babysit these kids who play Dungeons and Dragons, so yeah. I know of it," Steve somewhat lies.
Eddie continues to stare at him in disbelief, and Steve finally realizes how close they are. He finds that he doesn't mind the small distance between them, and he especially doesn't mind the way Eddie's cheeks get a little pink before he turns away to flip through more pages.
And as much as Steve is impressed by all the effort and obvious talent that went into his notebook, he can't help but get a little distracted by Eddie himself.
He doesn't leave his side of the booth, opting to keep the close proximity, knees knocking into each other and fingers brushing as they reach for the plate of fries.
Steve doesn't want to leave his little booth, and he doesn't think he wants to come back later if Eddie won't be there.
But as it starts to get darker outside, Eddie glances at his watch and curses, "Shit, I need to get home before my uncle leaves for work."
"You can leave now, I'll pay for your shake."
Eddie looks at him, and sighs, "Thank you." He squeezes Steve's hand before they both scoot out of the booth.
They both have a moment where they linger and stare at each other, unsure of what happens next. They both know the dumb social hierarchy at their school and even with Steve's fallen status, Eddie's friends would never accept him. So maybe this is it.
"I'll see you around," Steve says, laying a hand on Eddie's arm and squeezing, lingering a little longer than he should.
"I'll see you around," Eddie echoes, hesitating for a moment before leaving.
Steve lets out a deep breath as he sees him walk out the door. Things will be better. They have to be.
-:-:-:-:-:-
This is definitely not the way Steve thought Eddie would be reintroduced into his life, and more than anything, he wishes Eddie wasn't involved in this. He just wants to go back to the sanctuary that is Linda's Diner. And he wants her to tell him that everything will be better.
Instead, he instructs Dustin to grab Eddie a strawberry milk from the store, and later grumbles without being able to explain why when Dustin comes back with a Yoohoo.
"Who the hell drinks strawberry milk? Chocolate milk is the obvious choice," Dustin defends.
Steve's heart tugs a little when he remembers having nearly an identical conversation.
-:-:-:-:-:-
(Ending 1)
Steve wipes at his tears as he drives away from Hawkins, getting stuck in the traffic almost immediately as everyone tries to get away from the cursed town.
He can’t do this right now. He doesn’t want to be given time to think about Eddie.
He pulls over to the shoulder and speeds along, ignoring all the car horns going off as he passes. He just needs to get to the diner.
A few miles later, he quickly turns into a space next to the small building and gets out quickly, rushing inside to his little sanctuary.
But as he stares at his table, he only gets memories of Eddie sitting across from him and next to him. And he feels like he can’t breathe here anymore.
But he still sits down in the booth, taking Eddie’s side instead, facing away from anyone who might enter.
He can’t be gone.
He sits in silence, staring at the place where Eddie’s notebook used to lay, where they shared a plate of fries, where Eddie’s strawberry milkshake used to sit.
A plate is slid in front of him, and Linda appears quietly at his side, knowing that he doesn’t want to talk about it. But when she slides a singular strawberry milkshake in front of him, he finally breaks down.
Maybe the town of Hawkins wasn’t just cursed. Maybe strawberry milkshakes were too.
-:-:-:-:-:-
(Ending 2. Aka an apology for ending 1)
Steve can’t sit still in the waiting room of the hospital. He has too much that was left unsaid. Too much at stake. But the doctors say it’s touch and go. And he has to wait.
Steve finally sees Eddie’s uncle, someone who was mentioned to him forever ago but has appeared sporadically in Steve’s thoughts. He wondered where Eddie’s dad was. Why he lived with his uncle. If his uncle was kind to him. If his uncle was on his dad’s or mom’s side. How he took the news when Eddie’s mom died. When he took Eddie in.
There were so many questions that were left unanswered because Steve was a coward. God, he wishes he would’ve seen that there were bigger, more important things than the school hierarchy. But even when he was fallen, there was a reputation he needed to somewhat uphold.
Steve doesn’t know how much longer he can take the waiting and thinking. He just needs a break from it all. He needs… Linda’s Diner.
He jostles Dustin awake and lets him know that he’ll be back in a while. Dustin just kind of gives him a look before shrugging and mumbling, “Okay.”
Robin grabs his hand, asking if he needs her to go with him. But he shakes his head and lets her know he’d rather her stay here and update him when he comes back.
He leaves the hospital quickly, racing to his car and speeding down the roads to the small dinner. He can’t help it. He needs to know that everything with get better as soon as he can.
When he gets there he takes a moment before going inside, looking away from his booth when all he can recall are the memories of Eddie. Instead, he heads to the bar and asks Linda for a strawberry milkshake to go.
After she puts in the order, she walks up to Steve and lays a hand over his. “Is he okay?” She asks gently.
Steve should’ve known that she’s seen the news, but he’s relieved to find that she knows Eddie isn’t guilty. That he would never be capable of the horrible things he’s been accused of.
“He’s touch and go right now,” Steve admits, trying not to let his bottom lip quiver too much.
Linda squeezes his hand and says, “It’ll all be better soon. I just know it.”
Steve smiles at her and whispers, “Thank you.”
Moments later, she hands him the milkshake, and Steve leaves soon after. He needs to get back as quickly as he can.
He drives faster than when he left, almost regretting his little pit stop when he feels like he needs to be there. He races up to the waiting room and finds that Dustin and Eddie’s uncle are gone. Steve’s stomach drops as he looks at Robin. “Is he?”
Robin hugs him with tears in her eyes and whispers, “He’s awake. And he’s okay. He’s going to be okay.”
Steve sighs in relief and feels a few tears spill out of his eyes. He ducks his head into Robin’s neck and tries to hide his reaction from anyone else.
“Steve.”
Steve takes a deep breath and looks toward the doorway where Dustin is standing. “He wants to see you.”
Steve smiles and squeezes Robin’s arm before practically dragging a confused Dustin down the hall while asking where his room is.
Dustin leads him to it and says, “I don’t understand why-”
“Later, okay?” Steve asks, cutting him off. “I promise. I’ll tell you later.”
Dustin nods and for once he lets Steve go easily. “Okay.”
Steve jostles his hair around before slowly going into the room. He nearly gasps at the sight of Eddie so pale and almost lifeless, but when he sees his chest move slowly up and down, he’s flooded with relief.
“Eddie…” Steve says, practically running up to the bed and placing a gentle hand over his.
Eddie weakly smiles at him before glancing down at his hand. “What’s that?” He asks quietly.
“A strawberry milkshake from Linda.”
Eddie smiles a little wider. “You remembered.”
“Of course I did. How could I forget?” Steve sets it down on a little table next to his bed and finally confesses, “Eddie, I wish things would’ve been different between us because out of all the things I got from Linda’s diner, you were the best. And I’m so glad you stole my booth because I needed you that day. And I need you now and-”
“Steve?” Eddie says softly.
“Yeah?”
Eddie’s eyes move toward the foot of his bed.
Steve glances over and jumps when he sees Eddie’s uncle watching him with a small smile. “Go ahead, I’m enjoying this.”
“Wayne,” Eddie tries to groan but it ends up coming out way too soft.
Steve just laughs and grabs Eddie’s hand. “What I’m trying to say is that after your name is cleared and you’ve healed and they determine that neither of us have demobat rabies, would you want to go on a date with me at Linda’s diner?”
Eddie smiles and squeezes his hand. “Absolutely.”
“Thank god,” Wayne mutters from his seat.
As Steve laughs and Eddie tries to glare at his uncle, he can’t help but believe that everything will truly get better.
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barcaatthemoon · 22 days
Text
anxiety (get nervous) || ona batlle x reader ||
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ona helps you wade through the anxiety that comes with your parents.
your day had started just like any other. you woke up at a time that ona would think was too early, went for a jog to get coffee, and then came back to the hotel just in time to join the team for breakfast. ona sat curled into your side, still half asleep as you began to check your messages for the day. that was when you saw it, and the alarm bells began to go off inside of your head.
"(y/n), are you okay? you look like you've seen a ghost," mapi checked in on you with a nervous chuckle. a few of the other girls also looked in your direction, so you put on a brave front for them.
"everything is fine, don't worry," you told them. it seemed to calm most of their concerns for you, but ona wasn't everybody else. ona knew that you were still shaken up. she could feel your leg bouncing nervously against her. she could see that your hands were trembling a little as you tried to finish your breakfast. "i'm gonna head to the gym for a bit."
"okay," ona mumbled. she didn't want to let you go, but it would cause a scene if she tried to stop you. and so, against her better judgement, ona let you go to the fitness center all by yourself. she didn't stay down at breakfast for very long, just long enough to eat a bit more and finish the coffee you had abandoned.
ona wasn't sure what to expect when she got to the gym. you would for sure be going harder than what you should have been before a game. you had already gone on a little run that morning, so ona was betting on some sort of weight lifting. the weights in the gym were limited, but ona could see the strain on your features as you continued your set. you looked like you were going to pass out at any moment, so ona rushed over to stop you.
"hey, don't do that. you'll hurt yourself," ona said as she came to take the weight from you. she could barely lift it to put it back. "what's going on? you're smarter than this, nothing heavy on game days. alexia would kill you if she found out."
"maybe that'd be for the better, then i wouldn't have to go to the game," you mumbled. ona dipped her head down so that you were forced to look at her. she pouted as she looked at how obviously shaken up you were away from the team.
"what's wrong bebita?" ona asked you. it had been a while since anybody on the team had called you that. whether it was ona's doing or your own, eventually the pet name had died down. you weren't the baby of the team anymore, far from it actually. technically, you were a vet now, which felt weird to think about.
"my parents are coming to the game in dallas," you whispered. you said it like you were afraid that your parents would magically appear in the gym with you if you spoke about them. ona knew a little bit about your childhood, but she had been away for the big falling out. all she knew was that they moved to mexico and left you in spain to fend for yourself. "they want to speak with me."
"that's fine, you don't have to talk to them," ona reminded you.
"but they're my parents. everybody else would tell me that i only have one family," you said.
"nobody else sits with you on the night before your birthday while you cry because that was when they left you. nobody else sees the damage they did because you got good at holding it in. you don't have to see them if you don't want to, it's all up to you," ona said. you sat down on a bench as you thought about it. you really didn't want to see them, you weren't ready yet. the very thought of it made you feel sick in the worst ways.
"i don't want to see them," you told ona. "i don't know that i ever want to see them again."
"and you won't until you're ready. they left on their terms, and now the ball is in your court."
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convexicalcrow · 4 months
Text
"Cub, please, go rescue the Allays, please, we can't let them stay there, they're so distressed!"
Scar's voice was also distressed, but Cub hadn't needed to hear him to understand. It had been a long time since Cub felt that deep Vex rage well up inside him, and it was both strange and also familiar. At least he knew why he felt that way.
"I'll get them, don't worry. He's not still there, is he? He's gone to do other things?"
"He's not there, no. Just, hurry. They're so scared! We gotta get them outta there!"
"Alright, leave it with me."
-
Jevin was easily distracted, it's fair to say, and in his Vex form, Cub was able to sneak into the place where he'd kept the allays with ease. He could feel their distress as he got close, and they flew to him once he broke in, clinging to him in fear.
"Don't worry, we'll get you out of here. You'll be safe with us. The Vex will avenge you," Cub murmured, giving as much comfort as he could.
There were small sad trilling sounds coming from the Allays. Cub could see the scars on their bodies where they'd caught Jevin's sword but had somehow survived. Cub wasted no more time in whisking them away to his base, hoping he could find a way to calm them down a little. He wouldn't defeat their trauma, of course, but that wasn't the point. At least he could give them sanctuary.
-
A lot of people assume Allays and Vex are enemies. That Vex corrupt Allays into Vexes. But this isn't true. Vexes are the rage Allays can't express. When Allays seek revenge, it is deep indeed, and handed over to the Vex, who can act in ways they simply cannot. And when the rage is over, the Vex are becalmed by the sweet song of the Allays, both comforted by their own presence. That is why Allays reside in mansions and pillager camps. Anywhere the Vex are, so too are the Allays.
-
"Cub, I've left a creeper in Jevin's house! That'll sort him out!" Scar said as he arrived at Cub's base later on. He wasn't surprised to see Cub still in his Vex form. "I named it CatDog! That'll teach him to kill Allays!"
"Very good, very good. It's certainly a start, that's for sure. I think we can find other ways to torment him, though, as the season progresses. These poor Allays, man, you gotta come see them. They've got scars, it's awful," Cub said.
Scar gasped. "Scars! Oh no! How dare he! Come on, show me where they are, I gotta look after them!"
-
Cub led him down into the basement of his house and flicked a switch. It opened a hidden door that led to a staircase going down.
"They're down here. They wanted to be far, far away, so I dug a hole at bedrock, and that seemed to suffice. They were sleeping last I checked," Cub said.
"Good, I'm glad they're resting. They'll be okay, won't they?" Scar said.
"I hope so, but you never know with traumatised Allays. Sometimes it's just too much. But I'm hoping we can give them enough of an outlet so they feel okay again."
-
It was, of course, a long way down. There was some soft conversation, but both Cub and Scar felt their anxiety and rage grow the closer they got. Part of it was empathetic; they were both feeling that way anyway, but part of it was coming from the Allays as well. Eventually, they arrived at a room, with a door closing it off. The soft sounds of Allays could be heard from within, their songs still very soft and mournful.
"Just be quiet and gentle, they're really on edge," Cub murmured as he opened the door as slowly and carefully as he could.
Scar nodded and followed him in. The room was small and confined, the two Allays sleeping under a blanket on a pillow in one corner. A soul lantern in one corner offered a little light, enough to see how much dimmer the Allays were. Cub sat down beside the Allays, watching over them.
"Just sit and be quiet. They like knowing we're here. I promised we'd get revenge for them. If you want to Vex yourself up a little, I'm sure they won't mind that either," Cub said, keeping his voice low.
Scar grabbed a spare pillow and sat down. He closed his eyes a little and let his Vex features come through a little bit. Vex magic always felt more powerful when he was in Vex form. "We'll avenge them alright, don't you worry about that, little Allays. I'm still so angry! Gods. I'm a zookeeper! How dare he just kill Allays like that!"
Cub shushed him. "There's a time and a place for anger, and right now isn't it." He reached down and gently touched the Allays, who opened their eyes and sat up a little. "The Vex are here, little ones. We'll protect you. We'll avenge you."
The two Allays made soft little cries before allowing Cub and Scar to hold them. Cub held his close to his chest, offering a little Vex magic to comfort the poor creature. Scar wrapped his in a blanket and cradled them in his arms. The rage was building, and for an Allay to feel rage, well, something very bad had definitely happened to cause it.
"This is just like the one I rescued last season. The one Zed got to kill him by holding thorns armour. Man, that Allay was messed up," Cub murmured.
"I did hear about that one. I hope they're okay now."
"It took a long time, but we got there. And these guys'll get there too. And if that means we get to have a little fun along the way, well. So be it."
"So be it. Long live the Vex."
"Long live the ConVex."
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loganwritesprobably · 2 months
Note
– Shanks/Ben/Reader (?) with the 1° genre, prompt (q.) and (x.) ✨
I'm a lover of both Shanks and Benn so this is delicious, and I've said it before so but I'll say it again - drunk party games are ABSOLUTELY something that the red hair pirates play, so this is just in character
Find the prompt list here
Content/Warnings: Shanks/GN!Reader/Benn, fluff, intoxication, secret relationship becomes public, use of the term 'daddy' as a joke, a little suggestive
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Playing drunken games with the crew were always dangerous. All of them were a little too smart for their own good, but only when you wanted them to be dumb. They never had their wits about them when you wanted them to, but when you wanted them to be stupid, they all became Vegapunk. So, playing drunk games meant you were at risk of revealing things you really didn't want to.
What might you be keeping from your crew exactly? Well, the fact that you were dating your Captain, and first mate. It'd happened totally by accident, and you wouldn't change it for the world, but now you were here and trying to keep it a secret. You weren't ashamed, and you weren't afraid that they wouldn't approve, you just knew they wouldn't mind their business and you liked your privacy.
It would be fine, you were sure.
You sat at the side of the group, beside Gab, leaning your head against the crate he was sitting on. Everyone in the crew was close enough to at least be a little touchy with each other. Yassop threw back his head, and finished his drink, before throwing the bottle aside. "Alright - Benn," you laughed softly, already interested to see what the sniper would come up with, "would you date.. anyone on the crew?" Oh that wasn't as fun as you'd hoped. You met Shanks' eyes, and the two of you struggled not to laugh. "It's alright Benn, you can lie, I can take it." Shanks joked, an arm dramatically draped over his forehead. Everyone was more than used to your Captain's dramatics, so nobody questioned it, just laughing along in their drunken amusement. "Don't break our hearts Benn, you know you want us." You joked, pursing your lips in his direction as if waiting for a kiss, and Shanks doubled over with his laugher, while the rest of the crew shifted more to confusion to amusement.
Okay, maybe they're not that smart, maybe the three of you just.. aren't subtle.
"Do you ever feel like you've missed something?" Lucky asked Limejuice, who just nodded in response, looking between the three of you. Benn rolled his eyes, and smacked Shanks upside the head, flipping you the bird since he couldn't reach you. "Behave, both of you." He told you, a fond smile on his lips. "Sorry daddy." You said, scoffing as best as you could despite the grin you could suppress. Shanks snorted, spitting a mouthful of ale across the sand beneath you, and you couldn't hold back your own laughter after that. The crew around you stared on, bewildered.
"Alright then, one for you, baby," Benn's tone made a shiver go down your spine and a smirk play at your lips, "a dare, no choice since you want to be a brat." "Go on then, hit me with it." You told him, briefly making eye contact with Shanks but you had to look away before you broke down into drunken giggles. "Come here, get in my lap, and kiss me." Benn said, and suddenly you felt far more sober. You had a decision to make, and it was important you made it quickly. Shanks looked between the two of you, concern and confusion stirring in his stomach. Was this really how you were going to go public?
Yes, you decided, when you stood from your spot to approach Benn. You climbed up into his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft and gentle kiss to his lips. Out of habit, Shanks pouted at the two of you and the words, "what about me?" left his lips before he could stop them. You and Benn turned to him with laughs and you pulled him closer.
Your lips landed on one cheek, while Benn's landed on the other, effectively quietening him for now. It would have to do, you supposed, while everyone was watching anyway.
Looking around, you noticed the entire crew had their eyes on the three of you, mouths hanging open. "You're all catching flies." You said, sipping from your bottle with ease, still seated comfortably in your lover's lap. Benn shuffled along on his crate so Shanks could sit beside him, their ankles locked together, and you shuffled to lean across the two of them. It was nice. "Lucky owes me fifty berri." Hongo mumbled, the first to regain his ability to speak.
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Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment
AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs
Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable
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redbullgirly · 8 months
Note
Hellooo 👋, can you write enemies to lovers with fernando alonso maybe with some angst? 🤭
It's totally alright if you don't want to! Thankssss :))
EL DESTINO [FA14 oneshot]
Fernando Alonso x reader
Masterlist
Summary: Y/N works for Alpine, and even though Fernando Alonso isn't part of the team anymore, they can't forget their distaste for each other. The driver seems to think she's just an irresponsible party girl and Y/N doesn't like him because he's, well... annoying and mean and doesn't care about anybody but himself. Though could they be both wrong in their prejudices?
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: Not much, maybe they're kind of mean to each other and stupid at the start, but that's the point of enemies to lovers, right? XD
Author's Note: Hello Anon and thank you for the request! I didn't expect it to turn out so long, but hey XD. I hope you and everybody else will like it. Also I tried for a little bit of angst, but I'm not sure if I'm good at it... you can let me know :).
If anyone could read your thoughts at the moment, you’d probably end up locked behind bars and with the key from your cell thrown far away. Whoever's great idea was to allow the group of inexperienced interns to touch the important data and statistics deserved to rot seven feet underground. Chopped into small pieces. And doused in poison that eats their lifeless body until there's nothing left.
Okay, that's maybe a bit too violent, but still not far from the truth.
You rubbed your tired eyes, not caring about smudging the mascara anymore. There was basically no one left in the building, just a few mechanics desperately needing the cars to be in perfect condition tomorrow – or should we say today? And then there was you, who stupidly agreed to fix the disaster caused by too much excitement and not enough cautiousness. You knew the interns didn't do it on purpose, and blaming them wasn't going to help you, but still. It wasn't them who had to sit there long after their working hours ended, staring into a too bright computer screen.
When you finally managed to save all the damaged data, it was almost three in the morning, and before you made it back to the hotel, you weren't sure if it was even worth going to bed. Because of the emergency, you didn't have time to finish your usual duties. And even though it wouldn't be fair to want the analysis from you, that wasn't how the game was played in motorsport.
Legs almost giving out under you, you dragged yourself to the elevator. The poor lady sitting at the receptionist desk looked at you skeptically, but didn't say anything as you stepped in and pressed the button with the number of your floor on it. Generic music started playing, numbing your brain even more.
The metal door was about to close, but then a hand came between it. Before you blinked and processed what's happening, a man slipped into the elevator right next to you, pressing his own number.
You see, everything could have been fine. You could've just survived the thirty seconds of embarrassing silence, then mumble a polite goodbye and go to sleep in peace. But no. Fate apparently had other plans for you.
Because as the man turned to you and the bright light hit his face, you realized it wasn't just some stranger.
Suddenly, the silence shifted from the normal elevator weirdness to tension. You pressed your lips together, silently cursing the higher power that decided to mess with your life just today, when you looked like a zombie. With smudged mascara. Perfect.
For someone, maybe it would be a fulfilled dream to be in an elevator with Fernando Alonso. Two time World Champion, great driver, loved person. And a dickhead that almost ruined your whole career.
“You look like you had a wild night,” he murmured with a thick Spanish accent. You narrowed your brows, trying to control the anger bubbling inside of you. Was he trying to insult you? You wouldn't even be surprised.
“Perhaps I did, thank you very much.” Your voice lacked any signs of friendliness, clearly trying to provoke him. It was quite funny, really, how a minute ago you didn't have energy to think clearly, and now you were ready to argue with this man over anything. Almost like the magic of despising someone.
You noticed his jaw tensing and knew it wouldn't be good. But still, his words hurt: “Maybe if you focused more on doing your job instead of wild nights out, Alpine would do better.”
The sting in your chest was strong, but by some miracle the elevator finally stopped, and the robotic voice announced the twenty-sixth floor. Even life itself took pity on you, it seemed.
Without any other word, you turned away from Alonso and walked into the empty hallway, hearing a quiet scoff and then the door sliding closed again behind you, leaving you all alone in the darkness. How poetic.
Every door you passed looked exactly the same, and you just hoped you remembered your room number correctly.
You didn't even remember taking out the card and entering your temporary home for the weekend. You didn't remember taking your clothes off, removing the remaining makeup with a tissue because you were too tired for your usual skin care routine. You didn't remember responsibly setting up your alarm and then falling into the soft mattress.
All you could remember before the exhaustion took over were his words that cut deeper than he thought, and deeper than you'd like to admit.
-----
You couldn't believe it.
As you walked out of the debrief, you could basically feel everybody's frustration crawling up your spine, mixing with your own. The team, all the mechanics and engineers, pit crew members and marketing, hundreds of people worked so hard the whole week. And for what?
It was already bad when both cars didn't finish the last Grand Prix in Silverstone. But for it to happen again? That was downright embarrassing. Not only did it bring exactly zero points in the Constructors' Championship, but the drivers were angry, disappointed. You could see that in the team, the motivation level decreased quickly. And honestly, you couldn't blame them.
Last year, Alpine was the fourth-best car on the grid. Best of the rest, as they'd call it. But this season, everything was going terribly. You honestly weren't far from crying.
To lighten up the mood, some of your colleagues decided to enjoy a night out in Budapest before you'd have to fly to Belgium tomorrow, to prepare for yet another racing weekend. At first, you declined the offer, insisting you needed to catch up on some work, do analysis for the car and figure out exactly what happened to it. But then, one of the mechanics you were friendlier with saw your drooping shoulders, and pulled you into the club despite all your weak protests.
Soon enough, you let loose and after an hour, you were a few drinks in. Your head was spinning, a big smile planted on your lips and giggles coming out of your mouth uncontrollably. Not that you had low alcohol tolerance, but the last time you got properly drunk was some time ago. Perhaps you just forgot how it felt. The freedom, the sweet mist of oblivion clouding your mind.
Currently, you were sitting at the bar, sipping on a cocktail. You already enjoyed your time on the dance floor, which tired you more than expected. Thank God you went to the club right from the paddock, so instead of high heels that'd kill your feet, you had comfortable sneakers on.
As you waved at the young barman to give you another round of whatever he mixed for you before, you felt someone's eyes on your back. You didn't bother to turn around, thinking it was just another drunken man checking out half of the women in the club.
Then, someone stood behind you. “The drink's on me, hermosa,” the man said, voice smooth like honey. You froze. You knew that deep, thick Spanish accent too well. What the hell was Alonso doing here?
He clearly mistook your silence for an impressed one, or so you thought when he came to sit down next to you, his hand gently brushing your back. That was the moment you turned your head towards him, eyes wide, and his face dropped. So did yours.
You hoped for a split second you could pretend you were total strangers randomly meeting in a bar for just a little longer when he instantly frowned and his demeanor changed from charming gentleman to pain in the ass.
“Y/L/N,” he uttered it in a way that made you wonder if there was something wrong with your last name. “Guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here.”
And here it was — the instant wave of anger and hurt he managed to bring up by just a few poking words.
“Says the right person.” You rolled your eyes, the flowing feeling the alcohol gave you before now gone. You felt like you were going to be sick. “I bet if it wasn't me you tried to hit on, you'd bring the poor woman to your hotel room tonight.”
“Careful, or you might sound jealous.”
“Oh, you wish, Alonso,” you laughed humorlessly. 
The bartender chose that moment to bring you the requested cocktail you already forgot about. You gave him the cash, though you had no intention of actually drinking it. As always, Alonso left a sour taste in your mouth.
“I see you're drinking the team problems away,” he pressed harder, knowing damn well it was a sensitive topic. You gritted your teeth, reminding yourself to be the better person.
Then you looked into his dark eyes, and your self-control was gone. For some reason, you couldn't stand the look he was giving you. It was full of something that was too similar to disappointment. You hated people being disappointed in you, even if you hated that very person.
Out of nowhere, the alcohol kicked in, and you remembered why you didn't drink in clubs too often — it made you emotional. So stupidly sensitive that you couldn't stop your eyes from tearing up. You shook your head, opened your mouth, wanting to tell him something. Anything that'd make him just as much hurt as you were.
Instead, you bit your trembling lip and abruptly stood up. You almost knocked over the bar stool, though at the moment, you didn't really care.
Was it cowardly to run away from him and his harsh words? Yes, you knew that. But you did it in the elevator, and so you could do it again.
In a rush, you got through other people enjoying their night out, oblivious to the lump forming in your throat.  You needed to get out, breathe in the fresh air and just forget about everything.
It was probably nearing midnight, and even though it was late July, you still shivered when you stepped outside the club. Just then you remembered you left your jacket back in the paddock. And you also realized the mechanic and his group of friends drove you here, and you had no idea where you were or how to get to your hotel room.
“Great. Just fucking perfect,” you mumbled to yourself, a few tears running down your cheeks. You wiped them away, willing yourself to calm down. Budapest couldn't be too different from other European cities, so you'd just walk to the nearest public transport station and then see what you could do from there. Yes, that was exactly what you're going to do, and it's going to be okay.
Having a plan calmed you down, at least a little. You walked in a direction you hoped would get you to the center and took your phone out. The battery was low, and you cursed yourself for not charging it during the day.
“Where are you going?” You winced and nearly dropped the phone when you heard the loud voice calling after you.
When you turned around, you already knew exactly who was standing before the club entrance.
“That's not any of your business,” you tried to sound tough, but it came out tired and weak. So instead, you lifted your head, trying to save the remaining bits of your dignity.
Alonso tilted his head, brown eyes studying you for a moment before he made a step towards you. “Don't tell me you don't have anyone to take you back to your hotel?” The undertone of his voice was strange, and if you didn't know better, you'd think it was worry seeping out.
“Oh, then I won't tell you,” you fired back, satisfied with your own answer as you turned around and left him standing there.
You made it around the block when a strong hand suddenly grasped your hand, and you screamed, prepared to fight whoever attacked you.
“¡Ay dios mío!” Alonso cursed and held his red cheek, where there was a clear hand print now.
You stared at each other in shock. You wanted to kill him for scaring you to death, but at the same time, you were relieved it was just him and not a creepy kidnapper.
“I'd say I'm sorry… but I'm not,” you managed to mumble. A weak attempt, you knew that. But it still seemed to wake him from his trance and make him scoff at you in annoyance.
However, he didn't let go of your hand.
“Let's go,” Alonso urged you back towards the direction you came from.
“I'm not going anywhere with you.”
“Y/N, if you think I would let a drunk girl wander around a city she doesn't know, alone, at night… then you clearly don't know me at all.”
It took a few seconds for his words to hit you, and all there was left for you to do was to look up at him with surprise written all over your face. That seemed to annoy him for some reason, but with alcohol still very much present in your system, you didn't have the capacity to think about it too much.
“Let's go,” he repeated, though this time you didn't protest when he started walking towards what turned out to be his car. You knew it very well, from the years you used to work together, for the same team. Silently, you wondered how the hell did he get it to Hungary, but you soon forgot about that.
Fernando unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you. Your mom would probably tell you to be more cautious about getting into the car of a man you didn't like and were sure he didn't like you as well. But hey, it's still better than being lost in a foreign city, right?
So you sat down, and before you could reach for the seatbelt, he took it and strapped you himself, mumbling something about safety hazards with drunk people. You were so surprised by that unexpected action you didn't even have time to feel offended.
You closed your eyes, the comfortable seat making you sleepy. You heard him get in the car as well and join the night traffic. For a moment, silence reigned and for the first time in a long time, it didn't feel horrible and tense.
“Isn't it illegal to drive with alcohol?” you whispered, eyes still closed.
“I didn't drink anything in the club. Too busy with you.”
Just then, you realized you actually asked the question out loud.
“Sorry for ruining your celebration night. Probably didn't want to leave it with me,” you laughed quietly. When he approached you in the club, he thought you were a random pretty woman with whom he could share a drink and take her to his bed for a fun night.
“Whatever.” You could hear him shrug his shoulders. “Sorry for ruining your night. Though you don't have much to celebrate.”
That made you open your eyes and gaze at him. He was looking straight ahead, concentrating on the road ahead. The lights of the other cars occasionally landed on his face, and you wondered if he was always so handsome, or it were the cocktails speaking for you.
“Wow, even in an apology there's a hidden insult,” you snickered, though there was a small grin on your lips now. Yes, definitely the alcohol speaking for you, you told yourself.
This time, Fernando actually looked at you before he averted his sight back to the traffic. “I wasn't insulting you, Y/N. I was insulting the team.”
You raised your eyebrows, but didn't comment on it. It was pointless to argue over this, he had his opinion about Alpine and given the fact both your cars didn't finish two races in a row, you didn't have exactly the best arguments to convince him otherwise. After all, he was part of the team last year. And the year before.
For the rest of your ride, there wasn't much more said between the both of you. You were tired — not just because of the night out and drinking, but from the whole week, from the whole season.
Finally, he parked the car before a building you recognized. You didn't ask him how he knew which hotel your team booked, perhaps he remembered it was the same one as the year before. Honestly, you were just glad he helped you get out of the car and walked you inside.
Then, you found yourself in an elevator alone with Fernando, again. Though unlike a month ago, he gently held your hand for support this time.
You told him your room number and somehow, he got you all the way in front of the door. You thanked all the saints in the world when you dug the keys out of your purse. After three unsuccessful tries at unlocking the room, Fernando's patience apparently ran out. He took the keys out of your hand and silently opened the lock.
“Thanks,” you muttered, and let him lead you inside your own hotel room.
When the light switch turned on and illuminated all the papers lying around, he looked at you, flabbergasted.
“What's all this?”
You shrug your shoulders and look at him like he was stupid. Which he was, at least in your humble opinion. “Work. What else?”
“Yes, yes. But why is it… here?” He motions towards the desk, nightstands, and bed.
“Because I don't have time to do it all in the office.”
“You work overtime?”
Now you were starting to get irritated.
“Yes, I work overtime. Maybe if you weren't so insistent in thinking I'm a dumb party girl ever since I made one stupid mistake in your car's analysis a year ago, you'd see I'm actually trying my best.” You hated how hurt you sounded, pathetic in your own ears.
But honestly, who was he to judge you? You never actually stood up to him before, defended yourself against his mean words. You always sucked it up, let him complain about you to your boss, who almost fired you because of the driver's obvious distaste for you. And when he left the team at the end of last year, you never tried to contact him, talk to him. Fix your non-existent relationship.
Today, though, you had enough. Maybe it was the alcohol giving you courage, maybe it was his shocked face when he realized you actually did your job.
“Y/N, I-”
“Get out,” you said in a tone that didn't allow for any objections. Fernando seemed to understand, but the pained expression didn't leave his face when he slowly walked to the door. Like he didn't really want to leave, like he desperately wanted to tell you something.
You didn't care about him. He never cared about you before as well, did he?
And so, with one last, regretful look in his dark eyes, Fernando Alonso left your hotel room. When tears ran down your cheeks, you weren't sure why you were even crying.
-----
You were avoiding him after that. It wasn't the easiest thing to do, but you managed and after surviving the Belgian Grand Prix in Spa, you were excited about the summer break as never before. Almost a whole month without races, which meant you wouldn't have to meet anyone from the other teams, including Fernando.
Usually, the team worked tirelessly through the summer break — it was a great chance to have a proper look into the car's engine and come up with new ideas and improvements. God knew you needed that. Typically, you were amongst those loyal employees, basically living in the Alpine headquarters.
However, this year you really wanted a break. So you used your vacation days and stayed in your flat, finally sleeping like a normal person for once, eating home-cooked meals instead of team catering and enjoying the summer, though the weather could be better in England.
It was the start of August when you started finding flower deliveries on the threshold of your door. First, you thought it's a mistake, though what woman would refuse a beautiful bouquet of her favorite flowers. When it happened a whole week in a row, you thought about having a secret admirer or, in the worse case scenario, a stalker. Though, you still took the flowers inside every morning, cherishing them.
And then, one day, there was an envelope attached to the bouquet, and you had to curse yourself for being so, so stupid. Of course it's him, Fernando. Begging you to talk to him, to let him explain. One dinner, he said. One dinner, and then he'll let you go on about your life.
When he tried to write a poem in the middle of August, you finally gave in. You found his old phone number saved amongst many other contacts and sent him a simple “okay”.
The next morning, there was a time and address of the restaurant in the envelope.
You didn't let yourself get too excited about any of it. It's Fernando Alonso, the man who almost caused you to get fired from your dream job, the one that was so mean to you after making wrong assumptions about you and your way of life. Yes, he was trying now, but was that enough?
When the taxi dropped you off in front of the fancy restaurant, you took a deep breath. You had a simple dress on, light makeup, and a few accessories.
You walked into the empty restaurant. The waitress smiled at you when you told her the name of the reservation and led you to the only set table. You could see the deep brown eyes looking directly at you from afar.
Suddenly, nervousness settled in your stomach. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was a date — it certainly felt like one.
Without a word, he helped you sit down on a chair across from him and the waitress handed you the menu. It was without prices, but you were certain this place was lavish and expensive. Perhaps Fernando didn't want you to worry about it and let you order anything you wanted. And you tried not to be too impressed by that.
“You look very beautiful, hermosa,” he spoke after a minute of tense silence while you pretended to be interested in the menu. You didn't miss the fact he used the same nickname like that night in the club, when he thought you were someone else.
“Compliments won't make it easier for you.” Maybe you lied, because you liked him calling you beautiful.
“I know, but I couldn't help myself.”
The waitress came back with a bottle of wine that Fernando must've ordered before you arrived. You took a sip and it tasted like heaven. It almost made you forget about everything, almost.
“Please, can we talk?” You never heard his voice sound so… unsure.
“Aren't we talking right now?”
“Y/N.” The way he said your name was so soft, so delicate.
“Fernando.” You saw him flinch, and you realized it was probably the first time you called him by his first name. Suddenly, the whole situation felt more intimate.
He gulped, but there was determination written all over his face. Fernando Alonso wasn't the type of man to give up, you knew that. His amazing racing career was proof of that.
“Listen to me, please. I know that you have the right to never speak to me again after how I treated you. But I want to fix it, Y/N.”
Those brown eyes were going to be the death of you, burying themselves into your soul, your heart.
“I want to fix all of it, Y/N,” he repeated with all seriousness. “If you let me,” Fernando added.
And how could you say no to him? Deep down, you always admired him. Liked him, even. Before that fuck up with his car's analysis, you thought he might like you back. You always wanted his approval, and that was one of the reasons why his words and insults hurt so much.
Sometimes, people deserved second chances. Especially when they were looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky.
Slowly, you nodded. “I think I might let you, Fernando.” You smiled, liking how his name felt on your tongue. “But it's not going to be easy, I'm telling you that,” you warned him with a raised finger.
“I wouldn't dream of anything less,” he replied with a thick Spanish accent that was stronger when he felt emotions. Fernando returned your smile and clinked his glass with yours.
-----
Brazil was a good race. Both Alpine cars ended up in points and Fernando, your Fernando, got another podium. You clapped along with others during the podium ceremony, eyes just for him. A proud feeling settled in you, and as he accepted his trophy for well deserved third place, he looked down at the gathered crowd. Mostly people from Aston Martin, McLaren, and Red Bull.
And then there was you — in your Alpine t-shirt, clapping for the driver who scandalously left your team last year, without a care in the world. That was when he knew he loved you, and that he'll always will.
You knew you loved him too when, after all the celebrating around the circuit died down or moved to clubs and private parties, instead of going to his hotel room, he knocked on the door of yours. Checking on you.
“Hermosa, I hope you're not working.” He rolled his eyes as he stepped in, seeing you indeed staring into your notebook at some data he probably shouldn't see as a part of a rival team.
“But Nando, I need to finish these-”
He cut you off the best way he could — hugging you from behind, gently turning your head towards him and placing his lips on yours. You instantly melted into the kiss, giving up the fight before it could even start.
“I think you need to properly celebrate your boyfriend winning,” he smirked, biting your lip teasingly. You felt like a teenage girl when the butterflies took off in your stomach.
Fernando slowly walked you to the bed, never parting your lips, as if his life depended on kissing you. You sat on his lap, your hips grinding against his as you moaned into his mouth.
And he couldn't help himself. He wanted to take you out on a magical date and tell you there, but how could he keep it a secret when you were sitting on him, so beautiful that his heart clenched. Smart and pretty girl. His smart and pretty girl.
“Te amo,” he whispered into your sweet lips, and your breath caught.
You pulled back a little, looking at him, silently asking if you heard him correctly.
“Te amo, Y/N,” he repeated. You knew enough Spanish for your eyes to tear up. “I love you very much.”
There was a heartbeat of silence, probably the longest one in your whole life.
“I love you too. So much,” you whispered back. And then, for him: “Te amo, Fernando.”
Now it was his turn to tear up, hold your face in his hands and press your foreheads together.
Perhaps the fate and its plans for you weren't so horrible after all.
THE END
Author's Note: Wow, if you read it all to the end, thank you very much! I'll be glad for likes, comments, reblogs, follows and every other way of support. Let me know how you liked this story and if you'd maybe like another oneshot from this "universe" because I have to admit, this version of Fernando and Y/N kind of grew on me... Have a great day and see you at the next post! :)
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devilish-yuki · 1 year
Text
Since the Obey Me brothers are so attached to their MC and every single one of them have a animal form, why not turn into that animal and sneak out MC when they're at their school / work?
Mammon
That man has it easy, since he can turn into a crow that couldn't suppose any big danger since he can fly and more. Mammon could easily come through your classroom window one day, scaring everyone away in the process, and bring you whatever silly thing he got along the way. Did you know that crows, like parrots, can imitate human sounds? Well now you know Mammon even as a crow would speak to you.
— Look human! I found Lucifer's credit card, let's hang out after ya class / shift!
— Mammon, get the hell out of here.
The rest of the day he refuses to leave and remains either on your head or on your shoulder, occasionally asking for cuddles.
Leviathan
Now, now, Levi has things a little more complicated, since he's a snake so the only way for him to visit you in his animal form would be to travel through the water pipes to get to you, so imagine one day you minding your own business and hearing a terrified scream followed by another scream saying "A snake!"... What are the chances that a snake will enter the building? In any case, you know without proof or doubt that it's Levi.
— Don't hurt him! He's my... pet? Yes!
To avoid problems with your class / workmates, you decide to just apologize and get as far away as you can just to "scold" Levi for appearing like that out of nowhere, his answer? Get inside your clothes and spend all day with you hissing and moving when he's uncomfortable.
Satan
Yeah no, there's no way he's going to turn into a freaking unicorn, so he very wisely decides to be a cat! Of course! Very agilely he manages to follow you from home to your school / work without being discovered, he even successfully infiltrates inside the establishment! You only realize his preference when you hear many people try to call him saying "kitty!", then you turn around and as if it were a beautiful movie like reunion, Satan runs towards you and jumps on you only for you to catch him and start to purr.
— MC! I didn't know you had a cat!
— Me neither...
— What?
— What?
Satan is a micro celebrity around your class / workmates, everyone takes pictures of him and petting him... obviously failing in this, he is a surly cat that only allows and demands that you pet him and give him your full attention.
Asmodeus
Another one that wouldn't turn into his designated animal is obviously Asmo because "scorpions aren't cute enough" so what does he choose? Simple, a cute lop-eared bunny. Unlike the others, he tells you that he will go with you and gives you a nice bag to carry him in it.
— Your bunny is such a cutie! I love him.
— Sure, just... don't look at him in his eyes for too long... I don't want you to get charmed.
Unlike Satan, Asmo does enjoy the attention he receives and even, in his bunny way, asks you to change his clothes and does tricks! So all day he tries to get everyone's attention and when your teacher / supervisor tries to reprimand you for having him, he just charms them.
Beelzebub & Belphegor
Beel is a fly and Belphie is a cow and, although naturally they could be together in their animal form, I don't think it would be very convenient to take a sleepy cow and a hungry fly with you, so they are both a pair of cute ferrets. The way to get to you is by getting inside your backpack without you noticing, you discover them when you go to look for a snack to eat and you realize that there are only 2 furballs in the pocket, one sleeping and the other eating what was left of the snack.
— Awww Beel! That was my snack!
— Eek!
— Come here you both.
The rest of the day they spend in your pockets and table sleeping together or playing with each other, from time to time Beel will ask you for food nibbling your finger so get ready to spend money.
Lucifer
Lucifer doesn't care sneaking into your school work in his human form so why would he be using his animal form? ... I don't know, the planets aligned or something, besides, the only reason he would meddle in your day would be because his brothers are doing something with you that he does not particularly like. Don't be surprised if you're with one of the brothers (pets) and out of nowhere a black peacock shows up ready to attack.
— MC is that... a peacock !?
— No.... that's the devil himself.
Luci would not stay the whole day with you because he's a very busy man, but if you ask him, he could open his train (tail) to impress your class / workmates. At the end of the day, as always, he will pick you up in his human form and by car, he hates it when you go home alone.
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luna0713hunter · 11 months
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hi can you do shanks x reader where he gets jealous when he sees the reader and a crewmate get close? with a fluffy ending please 💞
(i've never requested anything before so sorry if it doesnt make sense)
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Author's note : hello darling!how are you doing? Happy Halloween!!!! I love this request so much cause I'm a huge sucker for jealousy fics lmao!!! (And ofc my dear! it's totally alright!feel free to drop by again!)
I want your eyes,only on me
Shanks x reader
Warnings : jealous Shanks,swearing,drinking,some thoughts about insecurities,age gap relationship,maybe slightly suggestive?, sprinkle of angst,and ofc,FLUFF and happy ending
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
When the cold liquid slides down Shanks' throat,he wonders if the booze is more bitter or the sight of you.
On normal occasions,or basically on daily basis,the mere sight of you is enough to make his heart swell and a warm smile bloom on his face. But right now,as he watches you laugh and giggle at a joke that the newest member of his crew had just made,the youngest member beside you,he cant help but to wonder if he can drink until he blacks out completely.
Its not the first time he's done that after all.
Shanks downs the last of his drink while throwing his head back,and clenches his teeth from the bitterness that burns his throat,and sets his now empty glass on the table with a loud BANG.
Its honestly a surprise how the glass hadn't shattered yet.
Just as he's about to complain about the lack of whiskey on his table, someone slides right beside him and pours him his comfort drink.
Shanks barely raises his head,already knowing who has come to his rescue.
"planning to black out,Cap?"
"Fuck off, Yasopp."
The red hair pirate's eyebrow twitches when Yasopp lets out his booming laughter. He drinks his entire glass in one go and squeezes his eyes shut.
That was some heavy alcohol. He would surely regret it tomorrow,but for now,its his only salvation.
"what's gotten you in such a good mood,Shanks? I'm actually worried you might overdose if you keep going like that."
Shanks doesnt turn his head away from you,but slides his empty glass toward Yasopp, silently asking for more.
His new member of the crew smiles gently at your giggling form,and offers you a sweet drink while whispering something in your ear.
Shanks feels his single arm shake as he raises the glass to his oddly dry lips and this time,takes a single sip.
He wonders when he's became so weak and soft.
But he always liked you as his only weakness. He loved to be soft for you.
"he's so young. It doesnt help that he's good kid too."
"hold on," Yasopp raises his eyebrow and drinks his own drink;his expression turning confused slightly as he eyes Shanks,you,and then his new crewmate, "are you talking about the new kid?"
"perhaps."
"what about him?"
"dont tell me you havent seen him flirting with y/n all night long. Just look how close they are." He lets out a bitter laugh,and tries to wet his lips with his even more bitter tongue. The taste disgusts him.
"they're almost the same age. I wouldn't be surprised if y/n left for him."
When Yasopp pulls the glass out of his hand,he swears he's ready to raise hell.
"ok, that's enough booze for you."
"are you asking for a fight?you know i can kick your ass,drunk or not."
Yasopp shakes his head and puts the glass far away from his reach. Shanks groans and throws his head back.
"i get that you think he's interested in y/n. But you're obviously way too drunk if you think he has such a power."
"huh?"
"to steal y/n from you,you idiot."
"i swear I'm gonna kick your as-"
"hey,are you overdoing it again?"
And if Shanks still had his glass with him,he would've smashed it on Yasopp's smug face when he heard your voice.
"actually,he is. Would you mind looking after him?"
He groans and throws his arm over his eyes, wondering if he could ask someone to help him get to the ship.
He assumes your answer was positive;since suddenly he can feel your warmth right by his side and a heavy silence falling over the both you.
And when you reach out to brush his bangs out of his face,he turns his head slightly.
"already done with your new friend?"
He watches from the corner of his eyes how your pretty lips pull down,and a small frown settles on your beautiful face.
Gods, he's such an idiot.
But he cant help it. He cant help the bitter and ugly feeling rising in his chest when he sees you talking to someone younger than him. Someone better,more handsome. Someone more close to your age. Someone he's sure you'll be more happy and comfortable with. And he swears he trusts you with all his heart,but he cant blame you if some day you up and left;when one day that actually happens.
He wouldn't stay for him too.
"Shanks, what're you talking about?"
"its nothing," he swallows and he blames it on his alcohol consumed mind, "you should go and have fun. Dont mind me."
And he expects you to do as he says. He expects you to stump away from him;to never look back and finally realizing that you're far more happy without him.
But gods above, he's such a fool.
Instead of hearing you walk away,he feels your warm, gentle hands prying his arm away from his face. With one hand,you caress the back of his rough one,and with the other,you trace his stumbles.
"Babe," your voice is so soft,that it has him swallowing around the lump in his throat, "talk to me,please?"
And how can he ever say no to you?
"i saw...how you enjoyed spending time with the new kid," he clears his throat and closes his eyes when you caress his scarred face, "i dont blame you. No one does. He's a good kid; brilliant, handsome,younger than me-"
"Ok,hold on a sec," you suddenly interrupt him;your voice bewildered as you watch him open his eyes and staring at you questioningly, "you think I'm going to leave you for him, because he's younger than you?"
Shanks blinks.
"yes?"
When you huff,Shanks opens his mouth to defend himself but you beat him to it. You rest the palm of your hands on his cheeks and pull his face closer;making sure to whisper each word against his lips.
"I thought you knew,how much i love our age gap,Cap."
Shanks' eyes draw to your lips,and when you whisper your next words teasingly,he swears he becomes drunk on your breath alone.
"i wouldn't leave you for the world;not even for the One Piece. Never forget that,Daddy."
And at that,Shanks dives for your lips.
The kiss is hungry, unlike any other kiss the two of you had shared in public. Shanks' lips taste like whiskey,a drink you've never liked,but you dont complain about it.
Just having your captain in your arms is more than enough for you.
When the kiss becomes more inappropriate for public eyes,you push slightly at Shanks' chest and giggle when you see him pout.
The red hair captain,one of the most powerful pirates in the seven seas, pouting because you refuse to kiss him more in public.
"babe, we're in public. Save that for when we get to the ship,alright?"
Shanks' groans,and to your surprise, suddenly lays down until his head is in your lap. You thread your fingers through his red locks,and giggle when he nuzzles in you further.
"dont get close to that kid,or I'm throwing him off the ship."
"for your information,he was telling me how much of a great couple you and i make,and that he looks up to you so much."
"..."
You laugh loudly and Shanks' buries his head more in your lap.
"no more word about this. You have to take care of me tomorrow too."
"i always take care of your hangovers,you big baby."
And when you press your lips to his forehead, Shanks seems to finally calm down.
"i love you."
And Shanks know it's a promise you'll never break,not in a billion years.
Not even when you're offered the One Piece on a golden plate.
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wosoluver · 6 months
Text
Healers got to date protectors - Headcanons
Misa Rodriguez x Physio!reader
Misa Rodriguez Masterlist
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──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
How the two of you met
When Misa arrived one day at training, she couldn't help but notice the whispering going around the team.
They hardly ever got everyone together to talk about something, that wasn't football.
The friend groups were overall very divided.
But you know how it is. Gossip aways brings people together.
"What's going on?" Misa immediately asked Brunn.
"New member in the staff."
"And that's whats causing all of this?"
"It's a new physio. And she is gorgeous!" Sofie chimed in.
"I can't believe your guys are so worked up about that.
I thought something bad had happened."
"Oihane was the one who saw her when she stopped by to get tapping for her hamstring issue." Raso added.
"And now everyone is coming up with their own plans, to go into the office to meet her, without seeming so obsessed." Møller revealed.
"You guys want to fake needing physio sessions?" She was so confused. Why were they all acting like they hadn't seen a beautiful woman before?
"Not me!" "Nope" "I won't" the group of four said in unison, but they couldn't keep a straight face.
"You guys are unbelievable! I'm going out to the field."
By the end of the day she had landed badly on one of her jumps, and had a pain in her hand that wouldn't go away. But she refused going in, to check it out.
She didn't want to seem like she was partaking in the other girls' behavior.
So from training, she went straight home.
Next morning she didn't think she could skip checking in, just to make sure everything was alright and maybe get something to relieve that slight pain she felt.
She didn't want to tell anyone were she was going, so she decided on going to your office before training.
And once she saw you, she understood slightly, the commotion yesterday.
You were young, about the same age as her. That was very unusual when it came to the team's medical staff.
Your eyes were shiny and your smile caught her by surprise.
"Uhm, good morning." she choked out.
"Good morning!
Please don't tell me you feel a slight discomfort on your leg too." You joked in a light way.
"Oh- No. Its just, I landed badly on my hand yesterday. It tried sleeping it off but it didn't work."
"Come sit, I'll take a look."
You grabbed Misa's hand gently, to check what was going on.
"It doesn't seem to be anything to be worried about. It's barely a mild sprain. The discomfort should go away in two or three days max.
I'll tape you up to make sure you're safe for training. I don't want to risk worsening it."
As you grabbed your kit, you started to work on it.
"They're not really hurt." you let out a soft laugh at her words.
"I could tell. I think they forgot I'm a doctor." you joked.
"They're only doing this to have the chance to meet you."
"I suspected something was going on. That's why I didn't tell anyone about it. Imagine how alarmed they would be to find out half of the team had come in for a unscheduled physiotherapy session? In one day?" You both laughed about it.
"Well, you're all done here. Come back tomorrow so I can redo it. That's the best we can do, to heal it faster." Giving her a comforting smile.
"Thank you! I am Misa, by the way."
"Y/N. Nice to meet you." You said, as she left for training.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Where were you?" Asked Raso, knowing exactly where she was, from the tape on her wrist.
"I hurt my hand during training yesterday." There was no use trying to lie.
"Of course you did."
"I did! I swear!" letting out a laugh.
"Wow, Misa smiling in the morning? What have they done to you?" Asked Sofie coming in.
"Take a wild guess." Teased Hayley.
"No. I actually needed it."
"We believe you." at this point Misa was already rolling her eyes.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
This will be a series of headcanons! So far 3 parts planned. 🩷
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just-j-really · 7 months
Text
Snow White-adjacent Dreamling AU?
Dream is the prince of Time and Night's kingdom (with skin as pale as snow, and hair as black as ebony). Hob has some sort of huntsman-ish role in the palace. Dream goes out hunting fairly often, not for the sake of hunting itself but to have some space from the weight of his responsibilities (and from other people) and the ability to be alone with his thoughts. Maybe to mope a little.
Hob has liked Dream from the moment he set eyes on him, half-despite-half-because he was acting like an arrogant little snot at the time. And although Hob's initial infatuation was mostly just that, infatuation, he really did want to get to know Dream better. So when Death told Dream that he should get out among the people more, which led to Dream, grudgingly, attempting to make conversation with Hob the next time they were alone together, Hob genuinely made an effort to keep the conversation going and get to know him. They meet up every month or so, Hob talks about what he's been up to, a beautiful friendship blossoms, etc.
But they're in a weird space, with each other. Hob thinks of Dream as a friend, and Dream... wants to do the same, but he's too aware of the difference in their stations and the politics of the court, the way it would be so easy for Hob to just be- pretending to like Dream, in order to get something from him. He wouldn't even have to try very hard. Dream's lonely.
And maybe, given enough time, they could have reached an understanding. But the problem is, everyone is aware of Dream's tendency to be alone, in the dangerous forest, with only his huntsman for company, and someone (Night? Time? Desire?) gets Hob alone and asks/bribes/orders him to kill Dream next time they go out hunting.
Hob does not want to do this. Obviously. But the person who ordered him to do it is literally royalty and could have him painfully executed if he doesn't. Not to mention that he has no idea how deep the conspiracy against Dream goes, if there's anyone else in the palace he can trust to help, who'd go running straight to Dream's enemies if they caught him making plans. But he can at least warn Dream, right? Maybe come up with some sort of plan to fake Dream's death and get him to safety.
So the next time Dream goes hunting, as soon as they're far enough from the palace, Hob tells Dream that his father ordered him to ensure that Dream didn't come home from this little excursion.
Dream, obviously, assumes that this is the prelude to Hob stabbing him, punches him in the face, and runs. Hob is left going "Wait! Come back! I said that really badly! I meant it as a warning, I want to help you!"
He chases after Dream, but between the punch and the fact that Dream has some level of magic powers over his namesake- either he made Hob hallucinate or put him to sleep for a bit- Hob isn't able to catch him. He panics for a bit, but he figures at this point the only thing he can do is feed Dream's enemies as much misinformation as possible. So he goes back to the palace and tells Time-or-whoever that he killed Dream and left the body in the woods, giving the completely wrong direction so that when/if someone goes searching for Dream's body they don't find him.
Now, obviously Time doesn't fully believe that Hob went through with it and killed Dream, especially since there's no body. But the fact that Hob's nose is fully broken helps sell the story, at least for a couple of days. Hob spends those days trying to figure out a way to sneak out of the palace- he doesn't want to be executed, but also, if it's at all possible, he wants to make sure Dream got away. (And as long as he's daydreaming, he'd like a chance to apologize.)
He gets his chance when Death tries to kill him for killing her little brother. Unlike Dream, she actually gives Hob the chance to explain, and when he does, she helps him sneak out (under strict orders that he find Dream).
Hob is much happier to obey those.
Meanwhile, Dream has found shelter with a group of raven shapeshifters living in the woods (definitely Matthew, Jessamy, and Lucienne, maybe include other Dreaming residents to make seven). He is much happier being Dream, who lives in the woods and writes stories, than he was being Dream, prince who is hated to the point of assassination attempts. He's maybe making a little money granting people restful sleep and good dreams using his powers. He misses Hob, though. With some distance from the utter betrayal and terror of the moment Hob said he'd been sent to kill him, he's beginning to wonder if he hadn't overreacted, maybe just a smidge. But that's all tied up in and complicated by the fact that he's also beginning to realize he was probably in love with Hob, and he's not sure he can trust any of what he feels about him.
Unfortunately, the king of the neighboring kingdom, Roderick Burgess, hears about a powerful magic user living in the woods and decides to take that power for himself.
Double-unfortunately, Time realizes Dream is alive and sends one of Dream's former bodyguards, the Corinthian, to kill him. Dream's able to fight him off, but he's exhausted to the point of his powers turning on him and putting him into a coma, and that's when Burgess swoops in and captures him.
Dream is caught in a strange, deathlike sleep, making him mostly useless to Burgess. But having him nearby means that everyone around him sleeps peacefully, and occasionally has prophetic dreams, and Burgess is doing the same 'I'll force him to work for me' thing he does in canon except the logic is 'one day I'll figure out how to wake him up (and force him to work for me), and/or how to actively use his powers while he's still asleep.'
So Burgess has a glass coffin built for Dream, and seals him inside.
Back with Hob, he's spent most of this time on the run from Dream's enemies, unable to actively look for Dream, and slowly going mad with worry over what might have happened to him. He's also slowly, painfully come to realize that the feelings he'd felt for Dream were a little closer to 'love' than 'friendship'. It is a bad time. But eventually he hears rumors about Roderick Burgess, who 'rescued' a comatose prince from the woods and is offering a reward to anyone who can wake him up.
Hob goes chasing after these rumors- Dream showing up alive took a lot of the heat off him- eventually ends up in Burgess' kingdom, and decides to try his hand at waking up Coma Prince. Worst case scenario, it's not Dream. Best case scenario, it's Dream, he's able to rescue him and explain, and- well. Dream will go off and do whatever it is he wants to do, and maybe he and Hob can be friends.
(Hob doesn't let himself hope for anything more, any sort of soft little happily-ever-after.)
But for all that Roderick is pretending to have rescued Dream out of the goodness of his heart, Hob steps one foot into the room with the glass coffin and is immediately aware that isn't the case. He doesn't know much about magic, aside from the couple of times Dream showed off his powers for him. But it's not exactly difficult to spot that the glass coffin, and all the magic circles surrounding it, are somehow vampirically feeding off of Dream, and even though he only understands every third word of the larger explanation he's given, it's more than enough to confirm his suspicions. Burgess' fellow mages give Hob the tour of the apparatus, snickering among themselves because clearly this idiot won't be able to do anything magical that they couldn't. Hob nods along and plays up the 'idiot peasant with delusions of grandeur' vibe right up until everyone has stepped back to see what he'll do.
And then he drags his heel straight down the middle of the largest circle of runes, sending the spell completely haywire.
The backlash of the spell collapsing causes Roderick and his mages to pass out, and gives Hob time to smash open the glass coffin and get Dream away from all the spell circles.
But Dream doesn't wake up, even as the spell collapses. Just remains in Hob's arms, cool and lifeless.
Hob is not about to let it end like that. Sure, none of the most talented mages in the land had been able to wake Dream, but none of them tried getting him out of the stupid coffin, first, so Hob's clearly a step ahead of them already.
He sneaks out of Roderick's palace, carrying Dream, while Roderick and his servants are asleep. Gets him to relative safety (with the help of Jessamy, who'd been waiting for a chance to break Dream out and jumped in to help the moment Hob started breaking things).
And Dream's still in the weird death-trance but he isn't dead. Hob's sure of it. It might be wishful thinking but he swears Dream looks a little better now that they're away from Roderick's palace- a little more color in his cheeks, the faintest, threadiest suggestion of a pulse when Hob feels for one.
So Hob keeps a vigil at Dream's bedside that night, but eventually exhaustion causes him to drift off to sleep.
When he does, Dream is waiting for him.
"You need not have come to my defense," he says, staring at Hob suspiciously.
"Yes, I did," Hob tells him. "You're my friend. Of course I did."
Dream sizes him up for a long while. He's powerful enough, in this dreamscape, to tell that Hob genuinely means what he's saying. It takes a long time for him to decide it might be worth it to tell Hob how to shock him out of the dream he's trapped in (by fulfilling one of his most treasured dreams), but finally, he says, "You might be able to wake me up."
Hob's immediately like "Yes of course how whatever you need."
"Kiss me," Dream says, and then, while Hob is still trying to process that, "This dream is over."
And Hob wakes up.
And yeah, a good part of him dismisses the dream as some extremely strange wish-fulfillment fantasy. But it had seemed so real.
So, with the extremely romantic thought, alright it's worth a shot, Hob leans forward and kisses Dream.
Almost immediately, there's a little shiver of breath against his lips, and when he pulls away, Dream is blinking sleepily up at him.
Hob immediately pulls Dream into a hug, and by the time Dream is actually, fully conscious, Hob is sitting in the bed with him, supporting him with an arm around his shoulders, fussing over him just the tiniest bit frantically.
And Dream, eventually, manages to explain why Hob kissing him awake worked, which means that OBVIOUSLY Hob needs to kiss him some more.
(And they both get a soft little happily-ever-after)
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ashen-char · 5 months
Text
i say that i hate you with a smile on my face 🔞
ship: amber freeman (scream) x gender neutral reader
warnings: explicit smut so minors get out. hate sex, sex while driving
summary: amber is furious after seeing you with another girl at a party. the only way to deal with her jealousy is to fuck it out of her.
word count: 2700+
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By the time the party ends, it's almost 3am. Early hours have always felt so strange to you, so mysterious that liminal time past midnight and before the sun rises. Everything feels slower. Less alive, almost. There aren't any other cars on the street, aren't any lights on in the houses you pass as you make your way back to Amber's.
The radio is off and the streets are quiet. You almost wish that Amber would go right back to yelling at you because at least it wouldn't be this mind-numbing silence. You're so tense, shoulders stiff and defensive, your grip a vice on the wheel.
You had danced with another girl, sure.
Chad had introduced you to some new girl that Liv had befriended and told to come. You can't even remember what her name was. When Liv got roped into a night shift and couldn't go, she'd told her friend to stick to a familiar face.
Really, you think that Chad just wanted to ditch her on you so that Liv wouldn't tear him a new one for leaving her friend while he got wasted. You owed Chad a solid for helping you score a reservation at some fancy restaurant for you and Amber's anniversary after you forgot it, and you didn't see the harm. That was your first mistake.
Amber's expression is unreadable, her grip white-knuckled on her knee as she stares out the window of your car. Speaking first would feel like you lost - you still don't think you did anything wrong, feels that Amber's reaction was way too far. And you're stubborn. But Amber is even more so. And your relationship is more valuable than winning... whatever this is, so
"I didn't do anything," you say for what feels like the hundredth time that night.
"You hear how you sound right now?" Amber snarls, her own shoulders tensing up. "That's what everyone says when they're caught. I didn't do anything," she imitates your voice in a whine.
Mocking you? How mature.
Letting go of her knee, Amber folds her arms over her chest, looking away from you again. You can see her roll her eyes and scoff a “whatever” under her breath.
You grit your teeth. Possible responses whir through your brain - a joke, an apology, something to diffuse the situation. You know what you should do, know that Amber’s only jealous because she’s desperate for reassurance from you. But God is it exhausting navigating Amber's complex emotions when she doesn't even care if she hurts yours.
Tonight was supposed to be fun for fuck’s sake. You were supposed to go to a party and have a blast, not get into another stupid argument.
Amber hasn't apologised a single time since you two started dating. She hasn't once promised she'd be better like you always do for her. She had yelled at you the second you two left the party, fighting from the porch all the way to the car. She wouldn’t hear you out even once as you were vehemently denying her accusations. You truly believe that you shouldn’t be the one to apologise. Not this time.
So this time, you don't do that. Your hand reaches out, sliding over to the passenger seat until you're grazing Amber's thigh. "What did you think you saw me do, huh?" you say.
“What are you-”
"You think I touched her?" Your fingers trail their way up. The fabric of her leggings is thin, so you can feel the heat of Amber’s skin as you caress her inner thigh. It’s a tease, a war of nerves, wondering when the other will give in. "Like this?"
Amber's still worked up, blood still pumping; the adrenaline from the argument is rushing through her veins. But you know that no matter how pissed off she is at you, there’s no way she’d push you away. You swear she actually moves closer.
“You would,” Amber challenges. “You know, if I knew you were gonna be another unfaithful piece of shit, I wouldn’t have agreed to go out with you.”
You can tell from her tone that she’s trying to rile you up on purpose. Like she’s enjoying getting under your skin. She wants you as heated as she is so it becomes a level playing field. Amber does this whenever you two have a fight, like she's just waiting for you to blow up at her so you feel as insane as she does about you. You know it's all coming from the same place as the jealousy does. She feels so fucking much about you that she's begging for more. Needs retribution so bad. Needs to feel something.
"Sometimes I swear you start fights out of nowhere on purpose," you say. On her upper inner thigh now, your hand squeezes, almost hard enough to bruise. Your thumb runs up down, up down, never quite getting close enough to where she wants it. "Because you like when I touch you while you pretend to hate my guts."
"You're an idiot. Why would I want you to touch me?" Amber clenches her thighs, holding your hand in place, preventing it from slipping back down. You can hear how her breathing gets laboured. She's too stubborn to admit that she wants you to keep going, but you both know it. She can't help the mix of hatred and lust that fuels her veins right now. "I do hate you. I hate you so goddamn much."
A red light. You breathe out in relief.
Finally, your attention doesn't need to be split between the road and this argument. You can see the smile on her face as she swears that she hates you. Good. That wild look in her eyes tells you that you can be more aggressive with her. Amber loves that. 
Your hand slips up right where she wants it, until you're cupping at her center. Only a thin scrap of fabric separate your fingers from the cunt you love so much. You could do it. You could tear through her leggings and fuck the shit out of her. Amber's legs part for you and you swear you hear her whimper.
"What would you do if I did flirt with her, huh?" you say. "Would you break up with me?"
"Fuck you," she spits, though with her shortness of breath it sounds more like a plead. "I bet you wanted to get her to some spare room. You're desperate enough. Were you hoping to get your fingers wet with some other bitch even when you went there with your girlfriend?"
Her mouth is so filthy. You should do something about that. Amber shouldn't be allowed to talk right now. "What's your fucking problem? I was with you all night!"
God, this is fun. Amber's grinning and her eyes shine, the golden light coming in from the streetlights and making everything glow. You squeeze. The meat of your palm is grinding up against her clit but it isn't enough. Not with all that clothing between you. She moans, clenching her legs once more, needing more pressure there.
"You're my problem!" Amber shrieks.
Fuck.
The second you're about to leap in and devour Amber in a kiss, the light you're stopped at turns green. The car behind you honks and you're forced to turn your attention back to the road. Amber lets out a frustrated groan at that - that stupid honking throwing the moment entirely.
"You know what, screw this," she says. You hear Amber unclick her seatbelt, and before you can tell her to strap back in she grabs your hand.
"What are you-" You barely get the words out before your hand is shoved down into her leggings.
Amber's soaked. She's as sticky and warm as the last time you touched her, and you know just how good she'd taste right now too. It isn't your dominant hand - that one is busy on the wheel - so you actually haven't touched her with this one before. It's unfamiliar territory and the same all at once. She pushes her panties to the side with her own hand but it'll be yours that she makes do all the work.
"Shut up. I need this." A low guttural sound escapes her lips as she finally, finally feels your hand where she wants it. Her head tilts back and you feel her thighs squeeze at that first sharp sensation of pleasure. "Shut your mouth and drive," she practically hisses.
You have to focus on the road. The guy behind you is already pissed from how slow you were to keep driving after the green light, and how Amber had given him the middle finger. He's driving so close behind you know that a single slip up could mean a crash. You're so fucked. Especially your fingers, which Amber is sliding her slit up and down on, collecting her wetness with a satisfying shlick.
"Amber," you try to warn. As hot as this is, you do not want to get into an accident because your girlfriend was just so horny during a fight.
Her mouth hangs open in pleasure as she rubs her clit against your palm. It's so much better when you can feel her. You wish you could turn to look. But you can feel Amber's eyes on you, probably still glaring at you with the same hateful glare she had earlier.
"She wouldn't be this wet for you," she tells you.
The girl at the party could not be further from your mind right now. "I don't give a shit about her," you admit. "God, you're so wet, baby." You can feel your own excitement between your legs, can see how your windows are starting to fog up as both of your breaths heat the air.
She lets out a moan, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. "That's right. Because you're mine." Her nails dig into the flesh of your forearm, a threat to scratch you up if you so much as attempt to move away. 
Your fingers slip inside. Two at once. Amber normally likes to play the long game and build up to more, letting you tease her with one sliding in and out until she screams at you for more. But the thrill of the danger and anger and jealousy is getting to both of you. Her hips grind and wind as she rides your fingers, while your other hand desperately grips onto the wheel as you will yourself to concentrate on the road.
"Say it," Amber breathes out. "You're only mine."
A part of you thinks that'd be no fun. "You should've trusted me," you say instead. It's so much more fun when she's seething. It's like her anger is heating up her insides. She feels different. You curve your fingers inside her and she cries out.
"Fuck!"
"Yeah? You loving my fingers in your pussy?" You wriggle the two until you're pressing at the spot that always drives Amber crazy. But it's clumsy. You never use this hand and eventually it'll cramp up and get tired. You know you're doing your job well when she digs her nails in even harder and her hips thrust. Neither of you give a shit when the car behind you honks and overtakes you.
She's too wound up right now, too far gone. Her mouth twists into a vicious smile that you can't see, but you can hear it in her voice. "Y-you wish," Amber struggles out. "You think you're so good. I'm using you here, not the other way around."
She rides your fingers like that for a few minutes. As you had suspected, the lack of practice means that your forearm is already getting tired. As hot as this is, you can't pump as easily as you could if you were on a bed, not worrying about driving. You can tell that Amber is getting frustrated. Maybe that's making it better.
Everything is a blur of rage and lust until you realise you've driven right past her house. Whatever. You're dying to stop the goddamn car and set Amber right. You slam the brakes now that there's no car behind you to hit, sending the car lurching to a stop. Your fingers slide deeper into her cunt with the movement and it makes her scream.
You pull into a residential side street, one even quieter than the rest. Finding a spot to turn off the engine and throw the car into park is easy enough when your brain is putting I need to fuck her right now over safety.
The second that ignition goes off, Amber is already on you. You slip your tired hand away, the other going to her leggings and slipping them off. Her expression is still twisted in that rage that never quite goes away - she hates you, she hates you, she hates you - but she loves you so much when you shove three fingers into her.
You feel her tongue invading your mouth, probing and searching, while her hands continue to grip and claw at your clothes. It's like she's trying to claim you; she wants to take away all evidence of you being your own person, to take away your control.
"Is this what you wanted?" Amber whispers against your mouth. "Why do you make me feel like? You want to see me like this? Huh?"
It's reckless and out of control and perfect. You don't even care that any second you could get caught. You could lose yourself in this moment, in this golden haze that illuminates your fogged up windshield. The car's starting to sway with your movements.
"How do I make you feel, baby?" Her pussy feels so good as you surge your fingers in deeper. "Tell me."
"Like I'm going crazy," she whispers, her voice breaking a little with emotion. It's too much. It was too much then at the party, when she saw you dancing with some other girl, too much when you started touching her. 
Everything about what you're doing to her is bringing Amber closer and closer to that point of no return. "Like you're making me crave you." Her hips rock against you again, her breasts soft as they rub against you too.
This is Amber making you feel the way you make her feel. When you dance with other girls, when you don't text back for hours, when you forget your anniversary. Every time you brushed off an insult and didn't let a fight escalate, this is what she wanted. How pent up she must have been, swallowing down the rage and accepting your apologies.
Amber whines when your thumb grazes against her clit. Every bit of her feels like it's tingling and she's practically soaking your lap at this point. "I hate you but I can't live without you." Amber sounds like she's on the verge of tears. "It scares and excites me at the same time. I- I've never cared this much."
You keep pumping right back into her, never stopping, only growing more and more intense. Her body trembles but you're holding her. Amber's hands grasp at your forearm again, like she can't decide whether to push you away or pull you in. You don't know what to say. She was enjoying the fight earlier, instigated it even, but she's so vulnerable now.
"You're the only one I want," is what you end up settling on. Your thumb stops those teasing grazes now, rubbing against her clit proper. Her wetness makes it so easy. "And I am yours."
This is what makes Amber shudder and dissolve in your arms. The tension finally breaks and she starts squirming against you, fingers lodged so deep into her body it's like you're grazing at something deeper, body shaking violently. She's so close, so impossibly close, a moment of pure ecstasy that lasts seconds before falling apart in a burst of heat and pleasure.
"You're mine!" This she shouts so loud you'd be surprised if the entire neighbourhood didn't wake up.
You two fall silent for a moment, both taking slow, shuddering breaths. Amber can feel her brain is still short circuiting, trying to calm down; it's like her stomach has been replaced with a ball of fire.
"Still hate me?" you whisper, leaning in to kiss Amber.
"Just shut up, okay," she murmurs, kissing back happily now, her voice still raw from the edge of tears and the intense orgasm that had wracked her body. "Don't ever do that again."
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alrightieaphroditie · 6 months
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just checkin' in | j.m.
*:·゚✧ series masterlist
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pairing *:·゚ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·゚ 2.4k an *:·゚ it's here! the first part in a series i am veeery excited about!! this installment is pretty much straight fluff, but i had a blast writing it and getting back into joel's character. i cannot wait to see where this series takes me, and i really hope everyone enjoys reading it! this is slightly edited, but if there's anything huge that jumps out at you, please let me know! check the series masterlist for the series tags!
synopsis *:·゚ even when joel is miles away, he never fails to check in on his girl.
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after checking for what quite literally had to be the millionth time, the folded-up letter was still sitting right where joel had set it before he left; propped up against your bookstack on the end table in your living room. not that you were expecting it to suddenly grow legs and run away or anything. but today was finally the day that you could open it, as specified by the man who wrote it himself, and by god, you wanted to make sure you knew where it was when you finally sat down to read it. 
in the beginning, when you and joel first started up this little tradition of writing each other letters when he'd go off on the hunting trips, you would eagerly rip open his notes as soon as you were able to. joel always left very clear instructions to not open them until a certain date, and you always obliged, even though it wasn't like joel would really know when you actually opened them. you wouldn't be surprised if his senses started tingling if you even dared to go against his instructions, though. joel had a way of being so omnipresent with you; so attuned to your own being that even when he was gone, you swore you could still feel him with you.  
after a little while, though, you learned to tame that eagerness and make a dedicated time for reading his letters. the excitement never left you fully, and you found that opening the letter was still all you could think about on the day of, all these months later. you spent your morning helping in the greenhouses, thinking of what joel could have written. you cleaned up your house during the afternoon, eyes gazing to the paper with your name on it, written in his surprisingly nice handwriting, far too often. and when you had dinner with ellie that night, all you could do was smile as she mentioned opening her own letter that morning, your foot tapping against the floor as you impatiently anticipated getting to open your own. 
now, you were fresh out of the shower (ellie made one too many jokes about how much you had stunk after working all day, to the point where you couldn't really tell if she was joking or not), your hair done up in two braids, wearing one of joel's t-shirts and stirring some honey in your cup of tea. the window in your living room was cracked open, the crisp early spring winds causing your gauzy curtains to flutter across the hardwood floors. now, you finally tucked yourself into the corner of your couch, an ugly green thing that was shockingly comfortable, and tugged the blanket hanging on the back of it over your legs, getting comfortable. 
balancing your mug on the arm of the couch, you reached over and finally pulled the letter into your lap. just seeing your name on the front had those silly little butterflies float through your stomach; something you felt far too often with joel. you steadied yourself with a deep breath, and, after taking a small sip of your tea, settled back into the couch, unfolding the crisp paper. 
just checkin' in on you, sugar. 
the first line of his letter was always the same, and yet it never failed to make you smile. he'd say those same words in person, too, when he came by to visit while you were out working, or when he'd stop by your place early in the morning before he went out to do his duties. you'd never get sick of hearing - or reading - those words. 
hope you've been doin' alright. i can't believe they're makin' me go out again even though i just got back from another trip. swear these men can't do shit without me, especially tommy. i know he's the only reason why i'm out in the middle of nowhere, sleeping in a damn sack when i could be in your bed instead. 
you couldn't help but snort at joel's irritation with his brother. the sibling rivalry between the miller brothers was never ending, though the majority of it was in good fun. joel was right, though. tommy was, in fact, the sole reason why his brother left for another trip so close to returning home from one; maria had told you that tommy complained that the group he was going with couldn't aim for shit and needed at least one more man who knew how to handle a gun. 
the good thing, though, is that they're lettin' me get out of the next couple trips after this. i'll get at least a few good weeks with you, uninterrupted. as much as i like writin' these letters, and as much as i love reading what you've written me, i'd much rather be able to talk to ya in person. that way i could see your grin every time i say somethin' sweet to you, just like i bet you're doing now, huh?   
once again, joel was right. 
i gotta go pack up now, but i'll be back home to you any day now. take care of yourself for me, baby, just until i can get back to doin' it myself. i love you. 
a wave of emotions hit you at once when you finished reading the letter. happiness, for his approaching homecoming. excitement, for those few weeks he'd be getting off. love, for the way he knew you and how he loved taking care of you. and, however faint, loneliness, for how much your heart ached to see him. he had been gone for a week now, and before that, the two of you had only had one day together after he had been gone for two. only a few days remained in this trip, though it still felt like forever. 
you wouldn't let yourself dwell on that miniscule amount of pain, though. joel wouldn't want you to, so you knew better by now. instead, you reread his letter, hearing that slight drawl of his in your head, and grinning again just like he predicted. you held it to your chest as you sipped your lukewarm tea, as if your skin could absorb his words and cement his love into your bloodstream. 
later, after your tea had gone too cold and you dumped it out in the sink, you carried yourself to your room, the hem of joel's shirt brushing delicately against your thighs. kneeling to the ground, your knees hit the worn wood floor as you dug underneath your bed, pulling out an old shoebox. inside were joel's previous letters, the box almost stuffed to the brim with them. you couldn't even imagine tossing them out, these little symbols of his love for you, so this was where you stored them, safely tucked away. 
after placing the most recent one on top of the box and putting it back under your bed gently, you snagged the flannel joel had left from his side of the bed and put it on. now wrapped in his clothes, his scent, you felt closer to him. that silly thread of loneliness fluttered through your heart again, ever so briefly, but you brushed it off as you pulled back your quilt blanket and climbed into bed.  
outside your window, you could just barely make out the moon high in the pitch-black sky and you wondered if joel was awake still, looking up at that same fixture. it was the comfort you felt at that thought that allowed you to close your eyes and drift off, and joel's lingering scent on the flannel was the last thing you remembered thinking of. 
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somewhere in the woods, miles away from the walls of jackson, joel sat on the damp ground, propped against a fallen tree log. his hand was in his jacket, his calloused thumb and forefinger brushing against the smooth paper folded into bits in the pocket. 
he had requested first watch tonight, hoping to have at least some time to himself so that he could read your words. unlike him, you never gave any instructions for when to read your letter. you said once that he should just read it whenever he missed you, and he didn’t have the heart to tell you that if he did that, he’d be reading the letter the moment he stepped out of the border around town. 
you had mentioned in passing, however, that you made a little ritual out of reading his letters, and so joel started putting off reading your letter, waiting until the date that he specified for you to open his. he knew it was silly, that the probability of you both reading the letters at the same time was slim, especially when he had to wait until the dead of night, when he had a small moment of free time. but it kept him going, so he continued to do it. 
the last man in the group had just walked back to his sleeping bag, and joel was finally out in the campsite alone. he gently pulled your letter from his pocket, the jagged edges along one side showing him that you wrote this in your journal before ripping it out. the paper was smooth under his skin, and for a moment he simply stared at his name plastered on the front in your handwriting; the way the 'l' at the end of his name sloped off into a small heart. 
a deep sigh parted his lips; somewhat from exhaustion, but mostly from the way his heartbeat kicked up just at the thought of you drawing that. 
he had to shift against the wood slightly, sparing a glance around the site to make sure no one was paying him too much attention, just so the moonlight could hit the letter just right. he still had to squint slightly to focus, but that was more because of his age than the lack of lighting (you kept teasing him about trying to find some reading glasses, and now he wondered if he did actually need them). 
with nimble fingers, he unfolded the letter and immediately his mouth quirked up in a small smirk. 
hey there, cowboy. i hope the camping life is treating you well and not wreaking havoc on that back of yours. i'm starting to wonder if you're getting too old to go on those trips. surely having a senior citizen like yourself tagging along slows y'all down, no? 
joel forced his sudden laugh into a cough, shaking his head at your attempt of a joke. it was no secret that joel was older than you, but that had never really brought up any strife in your relationship. everyone thought that you were both lucky to find something like what you had given the way the world was, that kind of storybook love people dreamed about. the kind he never imagined for himself.
you were the only one who continuously brought up the age difference, solely to crack jokes at his expense. ellie adored it, and your comments made him laugh, so he didn't really mind it. 
seriously though, i hope you're taking care of yourself out there. i know you do, but i can't help but worry a little. you're needed here, so i just want you to do whatever you need to do to come back home. i mean it.  
while you guys are gone, i think we're going to be setting up the patio area again in town since the weather is warming up. i heard maria talk about hosting another dance soon, so i'm putting it into writing that i want to dance with you at least once, miller.
 i'll beg if i have to. 
heat flamed his cheeks, his skin turning warm despite the cool breeze of spring floating through. his head tipped back, resting against the tree trunk as he closed his eyes for a moment. the two of you had only had one night together between his trips out of town, and ellie had spent the night at your house with joel that night, too. not that joel regretted that; he loved spending time together with his girls. 
but god, did he miss touching you, feeling your soft skin underneath his rough hands, your weight on top of him, underneath him, your hair between his fingers, your lips against his. all of it. the first thing he did when he got back into town was remedy that, he'd swear on it. 
i hear you coming down the stairs, so i have to wrap this up. geez, your footsteps are so loud. i love them, though. i love you, too, joel. stay safe, baby. i'll see you real soon! 
a small heart followed the last word, and his gaze lingered on it for a moment while he absorbed your letter. reading your words was like a breath of fresh air to him, letting him fill his lungs with your love even if you weren't physically there. these letters gave him the energy, the will, to continue on. to make a point to go back. 
for years, he never had anyone to return to, no one to really miss him if he were missing. he grew to accept that, felt comfortable being alone in this great, big world. he never imagined anything different, always felt he had no right wishing for something more. and now, somehow, he had two people who were eagerly anticipating his return. 
joel brushed his knuckle against the corner of his eye, collecting the small gathering of water that had collected there after finishing your letter. clearing his throat, he sat himself up against the tree, gathering his gun into his lap to be more prepared for the evening watch. he never let go of your letter, though. the feeling of rubbing it between the pads of his fingers brought him a great sense of calm. 
later, when tommy woke up to relieve joel from first watch, after he set up his sleeping bag and folded his jacket underneath him to act as a pillow, he reread your letter again and again, hearing your sweet voice in his head as he did. when he basically had it memorized, he let his hand fall to his chest. as the wind whistled through the trees, your note close to his heart, he finally allowed himself to fall asleep. 
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taglist *:·゚ @hiroikegawa
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